


Healing by Fire

by TamzStripped



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Firefighter Derek, Living Together, M/M, Pack Family, Pack House, Pandemic - Freeform, Student Stiles, TeenWolfBingo2020, TikTok, Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, out of work Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26016367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamzStripped/pseuds/TamzStripped
Summary: They've been together 4 years when the world changes, and Derek asks Stiles to move in with him. Six months into the pandemic and the pack is happy and healthy, almost going about things like nothing changed.Until Peter shows up in the middle of the night to ruin everything, covered in blood. Then the fires start happening all over town, uncomfortably similar to the Hale fire.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32
Collections: Teen Wolf Bingo





	1. A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I've been away awhile but I've signed up for the TeenWolf bingo, and got my creative juices going :) This originally started as a one shot, but if any of you have read my other works, I'm not one for brevity. I expect this to be over 30k easily. 
> 
> A few things to know going in:  
> -Allison's dead  
> -Scott's not an alpha  
> -Derek didn't lose his red eyes saving Cora
> 
> I'm pretty compliant with the things that happened in the show up until the end of 3b, but if anything else diverges i'll be sure to explain it in the story naturally.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!

It’s early morning, just barely past 6, and Stiles smiles himself awake. Gentle rays of light slip through their blinds above their bed painting Derek sinfully, and Stiles allows himself a selfish minute to completely objectify his boyfriend. His dark hair inky alit by the sun, small shadows being cast behind the raised muscles along his back and shoulders. The air around him glittering from the dust motes drifting through the room as the air conditioning clicks on. He allows himself an extra minute on Derek’s face. 

Derek’s arms are folded under his pillow, the side of his face snug in the middle of it. Any of Derek’s stress lines from yesterday’s events at work completely erased in his relaxed state. stark shadows from the sunlight cast below his lashes. An easy smile spreads over Stiles’ face when he notes the small crease on the side of Derek’s nose from the pressure of the pillow below it. His cheek against the pillow squished in the most adorable way.

Stiles loves seeing Derek like this, completely relaxed, worries far from mind. Stiles thinks over the years they’ve spent together and how far Derek’s come from the man he met in the Preserve freshman year. They both have come so far.

* * *

They finally took the leap at a relationship just before Stiles’ senior year. It was inevitable with all the time Stiles was spending alone with Derek after the Nogitsune. They’d spent a lot of time together over the 3 years before, but it changed after Stiles’ possession. In a sick sort of way, the Nogitsune changed both their lives for the better. Sure, they absolutely would have gotten together no matter what, but in the wake of Stiles’ trauma Derek finally opened up about his own.

Stiles had someone who just… got it. Derek understood how Stiles felt, his guilt, his heartbreak, his pain. As they both unpacked their baggage they agreed to see therapists who specialized in the supernatural. Toward the end of that summer, they both felt lighter, they were smiling again. They weren’t spending so much time together for coping reasons, but just to spend time together for the company. 

The weekend before school started Stiles showed up at Derek’s loft with a spread of junk food, his Xbox, and a stack of animated films for one final blowout before his Senior year. It’s one of Stiles favorite days, the first of many, many favorite days. 

After hours of very competitive gaming, they settled in for a movie and snacks. While the previews ran, Stiles let his eyes settle over Derek’s profile next to him. Struck for the millionth time how beautiful Derek is. Derek notices him staring, and meets his eyes for several seconds before pulling him over to settle against his side. Up until that point they hadn’t cuddled outside of comfort reasons, or “accidental” sleepy cuddles. 

Their attraction to each other was no secret, they just hadn’t addressed it. Not in words at least. The 3 years before the Nogitsune were drenched in sexual tension, but the tension dissolved after. Stiles still believes that summer with Derek was when he truly began falling in love with him. Without the distraction of hormones and desire, they were able to really get to know each other, sharing all the secrets of their soul. Healing together. 

Stiles missed the first 10 minutes of the movie, still coping with how easily Derek pulled him into his side leaving his arm curled around his shoulder, his thumb sliding delicately under the sleeve of Stiles’ shirt. Suddenly 3 months of sexual tension slammed into him with a fury. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Derek spoke.

“It’s okay.”

It was so simple, but said so much. Stiles took a deep breath to settle himself. Stiles knew Derek could read him like a picture book now, so he likely knew exactly what Stiles was thinking, and undoubtedly picked up on his scent. And likewise, Stiles could read between Derek’s few words and uncover the depths of their meaning. 

It was okay.

Stiles settled further into Derek’s shoulder sharing the bag of chips in Derek’s lap. 

After another movie of comfort, Stiles gathered his things to head home. At the door Derek stopped him with a gentle hand curling around his. They held eye contact, silently discussing if they were ready to try. Stiles turned fully toward him and stepped in as Derek raised his other hand and curled it around Stiles’ head. It was a simple barely there, first kiss, but a flood of warmth spread over Stiles’ skin. Not an arousal heat. It felt like crawling into a warm bed on a cold day. 

A complete, all encompassing, feeling of safety and comfort. 

* * *

It’s been 4 years since that night, and as Stiles stares at Derek’s sun highlighted skin in their bed he imagined all the memories to come. 

Finally, Stiles slides across the bed, fingers tracing over Derek’s skin, warm under the sunlight. Stiles presses his mouth to Derek’s shoulder kissing a line to where it disappears under his pillow. 

Derek barely stirs, inhaling a slightly deeper breath and letting it out with a barely audible hum. 

“Good morning, handsome.” Stiles smiles against Derek’s skin. 

Derek makes a small sound of greeting, not ready yet to make any effort to drag himself awake. 

Stiles hooks his chin over Derek’s shoulder to nose at Derek’s cheekbone, and places a kiss at his temple. His fingers slipping just below the sheet covering Derek at his waist.

Derek hums at that with a sleepy grin, cheek still mashed in the pillow. He slides his far leg up in invitation, allowing Stiles access should the mood strike him. 

Stiles hums his appreciation, and nips Derek’s ear eliciting a quiet grunt from him. Stiles’ hand pushes the sheet down as his hand curls around the globe of Derek’s far cheek, giving it a strong squeeze. He spends a little time massaging the full toned globes admiringly. 

Derek moans appreciatively, pressing into the touch.

Stiles pauses his kisses over Derek’s shoulder and face, and speaks quietly into Derek’s ear. “I read somewhere that we hold most of our stress in our ass, so we definitely have no reason to be stressed ever again.” Stiles bites his ear again, and finally slides his fingers over Derek’s hole. 

Derek groans, sliding his leg even higher, pressing back into Stiles’ hand trying to urge him on. His movements are weak and small, as he holds onto his sleepy state a little longer. 

Stiles curls himself over Derek’s side, his sternum pressed in a long line against Derek’s shoulder and down his side. Stiles hooks his leg over Derek’s straight leg and pulls it between his own, opening Derek even further. “You’re so beautiful.” Stiles says, sliding two fingers into Derek. He’s still stretched and slick from last night’s activities. 

A wider grin spreads over Derek’s face, the smile reaching his closed eyes. There’s no rush, just an easy glide of fingers teasing out his pleasure while Stiles covers all the skin he can reach with feather light kisses.

After several minutes of slow torture, Stiles purposefully raises the ante with repeated passings over Derek’s prostate, making the man wake up more and squirm against the mattress where Stiles knows Derek’s working up a puddle of precum. Stiles’ own leaving a slick slide up Derek’s thigh between his legs. Stiles scrapes his teeth lightly over Derek’s jaw. “Wanna come like this, or on my dick?”

Derek whines into the pillow, his brows furrowing. 

When he doesn’t get an answer, Stiles just continues his ministrations, working to get them both off just like this. No rush to the finish line, just long drawn out pleasure. They have time.

Derek seems to grow impatient and his eyes slip open a sliver, mouth cracking open and he finds Stiles’ eyes. 

“There you are.” Stiles smiles leaning in for a kiss as Derek twists his head enough to free his mouth from the pillow. It’s enough to speed Stiles up, unable to keep up the lazy slide having looked into Derek’s desperate eyes.

Derek moans into Stiles’ mouth, small consonants and vowels fighting to the surface and Derek finds his voice. He gasps into Stiles’ mouth when Stiles presses firmly against his prostate for a couple heart beats. “In me. Get in me.”

Stiles’ whole body contracts in anticipation, thrusting tightly against Derek’s side. He bites Derek’s lip, groaning. “You’re the boss.”

Stiles adjusts and slicks himself up with practiced ease, pressing into Derek in under a minute. He bends over Derek kissing his strong shoulders that are bunching and flexing under the pillow. 

Derek cants his hips up, meeting Stiles’ thrusts demanding more, harder, faster. The last few layers of sleep slipping away in the heat between them. 

Stiles reads Derek’s requests clearly, and accommodates without hesitation. They don’t speak, only communicating in broken sounds of pleasure, and lips on skin. The sun has risen entirely by the time they both shout through their release.

Stiles wraps his arms under Derek and rolls backward pulling Derek over his chest to rest on their side facing the other way, so Derek’s not left laying in his wet spot. 

Derek, sated and awake finally engages in the spoken word. “I could get used to wake up calls like that more often.” He presses his head back into Stiles’ shoulder twisting to look up at him and nuzzle in for his own kisses.

“Oh,” Stiles says, “twist my arm.”

* * *

They go about their normal morning, a practiced dance around each other. Stiles showers while Derek goes through his morning routine. Stiles leaves the shower on as he gets out just as Derek slips into the room dropping a quick kiss on Stiles’ lips then steps into the shower under the hot stream.

Once dressed, Stiles makes his way downstairs to begin breakfast for the two of them. He’s pulling the last french toast off the stove when Derek slips up behind him kissing his shoulder over his shirt. “Smells great.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. After a few weeks of living together Stiles made a snarky comment about how it was the same french toast they had last week. Now Derek says it every morning just to spite him. He thinks he’s so funny. 

Derek’s already moving about the kitchen to set the table and fill their glasses. The table is set with dishware and food, and they slip into their seats. They each pick up a plate and dish out some for each of their plates until they have a little of everything. 

After Stiles’ first bite he slides his phone over and opens his shopping list. “Any last requests for tonight’s cookout? I’m getting ready to schedule the grocery pick up.” Stiles is surprised by how easily he’d been able to shift into the new norm the pandemic brought. 

It helps that Derek asked him to officially move in when the first shutdown happened, so instead of his Dad’s 3 bedroom house that surely would have driven him stir crazy within a month. Instead he’s spent these past 6 months in Derek’s rebuilt house. 

In the first year after they all graduated, they spent the summer rebuilding the house. Derek wanted to make sure they always had a home to come back to at any point in their lives. Each pack member has their own room, even if they’re only used a couple times each year. 

He’s resigned himself to taking care of all things in the household. Before the shutdown Stiles was working through college by working at the local movie theater, but that was quickly shut down leaving Stiles without a job. Derek insisted it was fine and he was more than happy to help support him financially. Stiles hated the feeling, so he’s made it his mission to pay Derek back with domestic bliss. 

Derek insists he doesn’t have to, he’s just happy he’s able to continue working on his degree from the safety of their home. Derek is very serious about Stiles not leaving the house. His pack can’t get the virus, but Stiles being one of the few humans alongside Allison and Lydia, isn’t allowed the same freedoms as everyone else. 

It’s kind of cute actually. 

Derek built 3 outside showers behind the house so when the pack comes over they aren’t even allowed in the house until after they shower. Derek will shower before he leaves the fire station so even his car doesn’t get contaminated, and he’s able to come straight in the house when he gets home. More often than not Derek can’t help it and will shoot to a spare bathroom to shower. If he’s already kissed Stiles then he’ll drag him along with him. Stiles has no reason to complain there.

At first Stiles worried that this pandemic was going to ruin their relationship because Stiles had never done well with rules, and restrictions. But nothing had gone as expected.

Stiles doesn’t feel restricted because he has this massive house to fuck around in, and the preserve all around him to top it off. His whole pack comes around all the time and he gets to see his dad occasionally, but being the Sheriff is a major undertaking these days. 

Also, the only “Rule” set by Derek is ‘Please just… don’t go out in public.” Which just eliminated shopping, and eating at restaurants. That said, pretty much everything has delivery, or contactless pick up options. 

Stiles is doing just fine. 

Stiles raises a brow at Derek across the table, waiting on any additional requests for their grocery order.

Derek smiles as he chews his food, eyes fondly resting on Stiles’ face. “I’m sure you covered everything.”

“You’re so sappy.” Stiles says with a roll of his eyes. “I love it.”

Over the years he and Derek had already begun working on learning to accept help and love. They were both fierce providers, and anytime someone did something for them it would make them feel like they failed somehow. When it came to accepting love, they felt they didn’t deserve it because of all the bad things they’d done. Their therapists sent them both home several times with “homework”, and together they rewire their brains.

Stiles recognizes Derek’s acceptance, appreciation, and trust in Stiles’ ability to provide for the pack cookout tonight. He’s being sappy, outsiders wouldn’t see it, but Stiles does. They have their own love language.

They clear the table with another practiced ease of domesticity, and Stiles kisses Derek goodbye on the porch and watches the car make its way slowly out of sight. 

Stiles curls up on a porch chair and peruses his phone, before editing a TikTok for upload. Stiles attributes at least some of his entertainment throughout this pandemic to TikTok, both for it’s content, and all the pranks he’s been inspired to pull on his pack and Derek. 

Honestly, Stiles is in awe that Derek still falls for them. He just walks right into the trap, or when Stiles says something out of the ordinary to get Derek’s response, Derek just magically forgets all the times before and doesn’t suspect he’s up to anything. Stiles thinks he has Derek’s therapist to thank for that, because Derek trusts Stiles so thoroughly that his first reaction isn’t skeptical. Furthermore, sometimes he’ll break the question down just in case Stiles needs to address something that’s bothering him.

One morning when they were getting ready, Stiles stood fully dressed in front of their bathroom mirror and had his phone set to record. When Derek came into frame after stepping out of the shower and wrapped at the waist in a towel, Stiles let out a sigh and scrubbed his hand through his hair. 

Derek paused with his toothbrush raised to his mouth. “What’s the matter?”

Stiles fussed with his hair. “I don’t look good today.”

“What?” Derek blinked, “of course you do.”

When Stiles didn’t respond, he stepped up behind him and started fussing with him, touching his features as he complimented each of them.

“Stiles, you always look good. I don’t think it’s even possible for you not to.” 

Stiles held out a little longer in silence.

Derek turned him around and tucked him into his shoulder, rubbing a strong hand down his back. “Alright, if that’s how you feel that’s okay. We’ll give it it’s moment.” He held him for a few minutes and Stiles’ heart clenched with how much he loved Derek. 

Stiles self esteem was a major issue he had to work through in therapy, and Derek had been there as a constant reassurance. 

“You’re perfect, Stiles. You know that.” Derek kissed his cheekbone. “Okay?”

Finally, Stiles said, “Okay.” He pressed into Derek stealing a few more minutes of his love. When he stepped away he gave him a kiss and a wink before turning around a lot more confident and admired himself before hitting stop on his propped phone.

When Derek realized that was another TikTok challenge, he growled shaking his head and wrapped himself around Stiles grumbling annoyance before roughly biting a mark into Stiles’ shoulder and purposefully messed up Stiles’ hair so he had to start over. 

Stiles blew him a kiss in the mirror. 

* * *

After Stiles finishes editing and posting a new video, he heads back inside and changes into shorts and a tee to go for his morning run around the edge of the preserve. Derek assures Stiles that there’s no threat lurking out there, but past experience keeps Stiles close to the house when he doesn’t have a clawed running mate for back up. He’s made lots of memories in these woods that he doesn’t care to add to.

It took a little while to get used to running without headphones like he always had in school, with music or a podcast keeping his mind occupied while he pushed his body past its limits. He found himself focussing on the complaints of his body, and fighting the urge to stop, when he knew he was capable of more. 

Then he started noticing the symphony around him. The pace of his breathing, the crunch of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rustling of leaves, buzzing insects, bird songs, and the scutter of small critters in the underbrush.

Due to the movies Stiles had seen he’d always just assumed that animals naturally gave a wide berth when it came to supernatural creatures, so he was surprised to realize how many actually lived so close to the Hale house at the skirts of the preserve. 

Derek laughed when Stiles asked, but his answer was so simple Stiles couldn’t argue.  _ “It’s just like anywhere else in the wild, all kinds of creatures coinhabiting an area, and letting nature take its course.” _ Then with a sarcastic smile,  _ “it’s not like we’ve given them real reason to fear us, we’re not out there hunting down rabbits in our spare time.”  _

He did however confirm that when they are shifted during a pack run under the full moon, the animals take cover or make themselves scarce just in case.

After his run, Stiles stops at one of the showers outside and lets the cold water run over his scalp, careful to keep his body out of the spray. He punches in the code to the massive garage, capable of housing 6 cars. The spot toward the back corner of the wall closest to the door to the house is empty where Derek’s SUV normally sits, Stiles’ jeep next to it, room for 2 more cars to park behind them if needed. 

Stiles makes his way to the other side of his jeep where the other 2 spaces are set up as a small gym. After Stiles saved up for a pullup bar, Derek took it upon himself to designate an area and get it set up for his pack. Stiles knew it was more for him than the pack, but he never said anything other than ‘ _ thank you’ _ .

Derek was aware of how Stiles always felt like the weak link, because he was human. Stiles is still trying to work through some of it with his therapist. He trusts Derek when he says there aren’t any threats around, but Stiles prefers to be safe rather than sorry, and make sure he’s ready for the next fight. 

Stiles grabs a clean towel and scrubs it through his hair, and pulls a cold water bottle from the fridge in the corner, before beginning his sets among the equipment. 

After he’s showered and dressed he settles into his office. When Stiles moved in 6 months ago he’d moved into his designated room that Derek had already set aside for him like the rest of the pack, but they soon forgot it entirely as Stiles’ belongings steadily found home in Derek’s room. Then Derek offered to turn his old room into an office for his schooling. 

Stiles boots up his computer, checking the time to see how long he has before he needs to leave for their grocery pick up, then pulls out his books. 

* * *

Stiles FaceTime’s his dad hoping he’ll catch him on his lunch break, while he waits in the pickup area for his groceries.

“Hey, kiddo. Good timing.” His dad smiles, the phone shifting around as his dad settles in behind his desk, and rests his elbow on the desk in front of him to hold the phone in front of his face. He pulls the mask off and lets out a relieved breath, puts the phone down to sanitize it and his hands, then returns to view.

Stiles gives him a small smile. “Things still the same out there, huh?”

He sighs, “it’d get better if I could keep people like Finstock in his house instead of at town hall fighting all the safety measures. You know yesterday he spit on several of my deputies?”

“You’re kidding…” Stiles balks. He knows his old coach has always been on the edge of a mental break, but somehow he still found himself surprised. 

His dad sighs and leans back in his chair. “Enough about all this,” he swirls a hand over his shoulder, “how are you and Derek? Planning the wedding yet?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but returns his dad’s teasing smile. “We’re great.” Stiles turns to answer the young man who’s approached with his groceries, cart stacked high with crates. It takes a lot of food to feed a pack of wolves. “Yes, i’ve seen the substitutions for the order, thank you for checking.” Stiles gives him a warm smile of gratitude. 

Someone asks his dad something on the other end and his father tells them he’ll be with them in a few minutes.

Stiles returns his attention, knowing he doesn’t have long before he has to let his dad go. “Have you figured out if you’ll be able to make the cookout tonight?” 

“Is Derek going to make me wear a hazmat suit?” 

“You’re so dramatic. He has everyone showering before they come in the house, and they’re nice showers!” Stiles exclaims. “He’s just trying to protect those of us who aren’t immune, you should be glad he’s reigned me in. I could be running around out there with Finstock.”

His dad drops his eyes in amusement, with a half smile. “If i’m able to get off in time, i’ll swing by. There’s a chance i’ll get called away though, a lot more domestic disputes lately.”

They both share a silent moment.

“You’re not gonna make me eat a veggie burger, are you?” His dad gives a pitiful pout.

Stiles shakes his head, “Tell you what, if you make it to dinner tonight, i’ll even let you have real bacon on it too.”

“Consider it done!” 

They both laugh before his dad is interrupted again, and they let each other go.

* * *

Stiles pulls up outside the Fire Station hoping Derek isn’t out on a call, and is pleased when Derek slips out from between trucks with a wide smile over his face.

Stiles moans, “your uniform really gets me going.” 

Derek smiles, keeping his distance from Stiles’ window. “Oh, yeah?”

Stiles nods vigorously, his pants growing a tad tighter. “You never come home in it now, so I don’t get to see it anymore.” Stiles lets his eyes roam hungrily, noting how the tips of Derek’s ears have turned pink, and his gaze keeps sliding to the ground. “I haven’t gotten to peel it off you, and do sinful things to you right in our entry.”

Derek flashes his eyes at him, taking a heavy sniff of what Stiles is sure is pure arousal rolling out of his car window toward him. “Stiles, if you don’t get out of here i’m going to run back in there, shower and change and have my way with you right here in the parking lot.”

Stiles lets out a small whine, totally on board with the idea, but the perishables in the back seat demand responsibility. He accepts his fate and reaches for the tote bag in his passenger seat. “Rain check.” He holds out the bag to Derek, who takes it carefully without making contact. “I made lunch, there’s enough for the others too.”

“Thank you.” Derek says before swatting his hand over the car as Erica, Boyd, and Malia run across the lot to swipe the bag of food. 

Stiles watches the small game of keepaway, before Erica proves champion and runs off with a quick “Thank’s Stiles!” shouted over her shoulder. 

Derek and Stiles watch them scurry off into the station before returning their attention to each other.

“I love you.” Derek says.

“Love you, too. Now hurry up and finish your shift so you can get home and make good on your promise earlier. We should have a couple hours free before the pups start showing up.” Stiles throws Derek a wink as he puts the jeep in gear. 

* * *

Stiles has just finished prepping the food for the cookout, wiping his hands on the towel hanging from the stove, when the front door opens announcing Derek’s arrival. Heat surges in Stiles’ belly, still worked up from seeing Derek earlier, but unable to touch. 

Derek’s hair’s still wet when they meet in the hallway on their way to each other. His eyes are just as hungry as Stiles’, and he reaches out for Stiles’ belt loop pulling them flush against each other. 

Stiles walks Derek backward toward the wall, carefully guiding Derek’s head so it doesn’t knock into a picture frame. “Ready to make good on your promise, big guy?”

A low rumble vibrates in Derek’s chest, and Stiles can feel it in his toes. Few things get Stiles revved faster than Derek’s more primal side coming out to play. Derek noses along Stiles jaw, scenting him, trailing small bites in his wake. “How long do we have?”

Stiles glances down the hall toward the digital readout on the stove. “A little less than 30 minutes.”

Derek groans his disappointment, burying his face in Stiles’ neck and breathing deeply. 

Stiles threads his fingers in Derek’s hair, tugging slightly. “We’ve done a lot more with a lot less.” 

Derek lifts his face, heat back full force in his eyes, and his mouth smashes against Stiles’ all heat and urgency. 

Stiles matches the energy, seeking friction between their hips. He bites Derek’s lip and pulls, making Derek grip tightly at his hips with a hiss. Stiles lets go, licking the swollen area. “Go make sure the doors are locked, and drape the bell outside in case anyone shows up early.” Stiles instructs.

Everyone in the pack has keys, and they’ve been interrupted far too many times. So they adapted to the bell system, and they haven’t been interrupted since. 

Stiles makes quick use of his time, while Derek checks both doors, stripping at the top of the stairs and setting his phone to point down the stairs to catch Derek’s reaction when he comes around the corner to find Stiles already waiting, ready for him.  _ Literally, ready. _ Stiles knew they’d have a time crunch so he’s already prepped himself, knowing exactly what he wants to get out of their time together.

He’s leaned against the banister, lightly stroking himself when Derek rounds the corner. Eyes trained on Derek.

Derek freezes at the bottom of the stairs, eyes big and glassy. “Fuck, Stiles.” He’s shooting up the stairs then, 2 steps at a time and a laugh startles it’s way out of Stiles and he runs for the bedroom. Derek pinning him to the bed face down, and biting his shoulder. 

Stiles groans pushing at Derek’s jeans behind him, trying to get skin on skin as quick as possible. 

Once stripped Derek returns to Stiles’ back, both of them a mess of open mouths and roaming hands. Desperate for contact after hours apart. 

“Come on.” Stiles moans, lifting his hips to make a point, and that must be when Derek notices.

Derek freezes before slowly sliding between Stiles’, sliping easily over his hole. 

Stiles gasps at the sensation, spreading his legs slightly, and pressing back further.

As if he’s not sure he believes it, Derek reaches down and slips 3 fingers in without much resistance. “Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles bites his lips, hips circling drawing pleasure from the feel of Derek’s fingers filling him up. He cranes his neck to meet Derek’s eyes. “I know what I want, do you?” To make his point he thrust back sharply into Derek’s fingers, maintaining eye contact daring Derek to do something already.

Derek doesn’t need any more encouragement.

It’s hard, fast, thorough, and loud. Their bodies are completely in sync as they demand their release. Stiles is sure he’s covered with fresh marks over his entire body, and the low ache only adds to his pleasure. He hates that his marks always disappear within minutes. 

They lay tangled for a few minutes, urgency gone, and sated. Derek links their fingers together over his chest. “Did i see your phone propped on the first step?”

Stiles tries to suppress a laugh. “Surprise your S/O naked, Challenge.” Stiles swears he can hear the roll of Derek’s eyes. “You know you love me.”

Derek pulls Stiles over him so their face to face, letting out a content sigh, eyes crinkled at the corner. “That, I do.”

By the time they make it downstairs most of the pack is already in the backyard setting up the tables, chairs, and grill for the cookout. 

Derek and Stiles join them, bringing out the already prepped food and condiments to spread over the buffet table, and Derek hands Stiles’ dad the tray of meat when his Dad offers to get the grill started. 

“You know,” Erica says, “if you’re gonna make all of us shower when we come over, the least you could do is shower after something like that,” she points upstairs in the direction of their room. “before joining us.”

Derek’s ears pink a little, but Stiles is unbothered, still sated. 

“Aw, did you and Boyd not have enough time before coming over today?” Stiles pouts mockingly.

“Shut up.” Eric laughs, pushing Stiles’ head away.

Stiles is only a little embarrassed when he remembers his dad is there. He jogs over, grabbing a beer for his dad. “Hey, Dad! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”

Hi dad smiles at him, dropping more meat on the grill. “I was promised real burgers.”

“Oh right,” Stiles rolls his eyes, “it has nothing to do with the fact that you haven’t seen me in weeks.” Stiles hands him a beer.

His dad breaks into an even bigger smile. “Real burgers, and a real beer! It’s my lucky day.” He puts the beer down by the grill before reaching out to wrap Stiles in their patented Stilinski hug. 

Stiles sinks into it, clinging to his dad and breathing him in, being around wolves really make you appreciate things like this.

* * *

Stiles is regretting having dinner first before sparring practice, his stomach tight with the amount of food he inhaled. Normally, they eat second, but they weren’t sure how long Stiles’ dad could stay so they opted for food first. 

Derek takes pity on the piles of groaning bodies around the yard, sluggishly trying to bring themselves upright to change and stretch before they get started. He walks over to Stiles pulling off his over shirt leaving him in his ribbed tank top. 

Stiles is slowly rolling out his yoga mat beside Danny and Lydia’s. Stiles eyes Derek, appreciating the view. 

“I’m going to run the perimeter, let everyone’s food settle a bit more.” He leans down for a quick kiss.

Stiles coos lovingly, “Awe, such a good Daddy.”

Derek sighs, pushing Stiles off balance from his knees and knocking him back on his butt. “You’re so weird.” Derek trots off toward the trees shaking his head.

“You love it!” Stiles shouts after him.

Stiles takes the opportunity to lie back on his mat alongside Lydia and Danny, and quickly trim his video from earlier on the stairs, adding “Surprise your S/O naked Challenge!”, and a few other finishing touches. Lydia and Danny have been snooping apparently because simultaneously he gets a ‘ _ That’s why you two were late getting out here.’  _ and ‘ _ Damn, i’m jealous.’ _

Jackson picks up on enough from across the yard to shoot a look at Danny.

“You know you got me.” Danny rolls his eyes, not giving too much mind to his boyfriends surge of jealousy. 

Stiles laughs, posting the video. 

Lydia rolls over propping herself on her elbow with her hand in her hair. “He knows, right?”

Stiles furrows his brows trying to discern exactly what she’s asking.

“He knows you’re posting videos?” She pauses. “I mean I know a lot of people post videos without the other person knowing, but Derek’s an werewolf, and an Alpha.”

“Oh.” Stiles shakes his head. “Yeah, he knows. He trusts me, and he knows I'm careful. I’ve had to trash several videos because there will be a conversation in the background talking about non TikTok friendly topics. Or I'll catch some eye flash, or fang, it’s always a gamble.” Stiles winks. “I still keep those for my own enjoyment.”

Danny laughs. “I’m guessing those usually star a set of red eyes.”

“Absolutely.” 

The 3 of them finally force themselves upright and set their jackets, phones, and waters aside. They run through their basic stretches and idly chat about how they’re handling the restrictions they live with during the pandemic.

Danny’s fine, still working from home with an extremely busy schedule, and only slightly annoyed by Jackson pestering him to ensure he stays safe. Danny the saint, is the only person who could ever put up with Jackson for 6 months without committing homicide.

Lydia and Parish are still fighting because Lydia refuses to be locked up. She’s a free woman, and is perfectly capable of going out with her mask, and all necessary precautions. Stiles wonders if Parish realizes that if he just let it go, she might actually stay home. Lydia is definitely the type not to be told what to do. However, Lydia mentions that their arguments always end with mutual satisfaction, so Stiles muses that maybe Parish knows what he’s doing.

The 3 of them have moved onto their more intense training when Derek returns, and realizes the rest of the pack haven’t warmed up properly yet.

Lydia, Stiles, and Danny have combined their brilliant minds to create routines that are just as strenuous if not more so. Incorporating cardio, strength training, and yoga. They’re running ahead of the betas because they’re a bunch of babies who rolled around groaning about their full bellies until they heard Derek drawing close. 

The 3 of them mix up the different elements of their routine to their own liking, with Lydia working on her cardio, and Danny strength training with a few weights and stretch bands. Stiles saved his favorite for last, because then he can spend time lingering in different poses if he wants until his body is unable to hold him up anymore. 

Currently he’s steady in a headstand, hands braced on the back of his hand, and elbows angled forward on the mat to keep him from falling. His whole body tensed to maintain the pose, all clenched and locked. Stiles swears this is the most fit he’s ever been in his life. 

He slowly leans his legs to one side, his abdomen clenching on the other side to maintain balance. He draws his feet in a slow circle just a tad wider than shoulder length. He focuses on his breathing, trusting his body to maintain control and balance. His obliques are heating with strain from the fight of gravity trying to pull his legs down as they circle one way or the other. 

He gives them a break, and folds his knees, letting his feet rest over his hips. Stiles’ eyes are closed, enjoying the feeling of strength to reassure him. He’s not that weak kid stumbling through the woods all those years ago. He’s not his pack’s weakest link. He’s no mere human. 

He’s faced immenent death, capture, torture, war, and been posessed by a deamon fox  _ and Won! _ The boy who survived all of that wasn’t half as strong of body and mind as Stiles is now. 

Stiles remembers the paralyzing fear that prefaced so many panic attacks. In a constant state of fear that they were only children, and they weren’t prepared for all the threats constantly passing through Beacon Hills. His heart stopping fear that his weakness would cause one of his friends to die.

He still has trouble not feeling guilt for Allison’s death. He knows he didn’t do it, and he’d already been split from the Nogitsune and couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. However, the ‘what if’s’ still swirl. ‘ _ What if he’d found a way to defeat the fox before they ever had to split them?’ ‘What if he’d not called for help in Malia’s den when he was having that night terror? And let himself freeze to death.’ ‘What if he’d taken Morell up on that lethal injection she threatened in Eichen House?’ _

So many people would have survived.

Allison would have survived.

Stiles focusses on his breathing, bringing himself back to the moment where his knees are still bent above him. He measures a few breaths going over his mantras from therapy to center himself again, before lifting his legs back straight above him. Slowly, he lets his legs separate until they are perpendicular to his torso, parallel to the mat on either side of him. 

“oh my god, Derek! I’m so sorry!” Parish says urgently.

Stiles’ eyes pop open and his legs screw up above him preparing to flip over in case something really bad has happened. His eyes take in the scattered betas, and Derek holding his jaw in front of Parish looking absolutely stunned, but Derek’s eyes are on Stiles’.

Stiles furrows his brows, awe in his voice. “Did he get a hit in?” 

Derek drops his hand from his jaw, and lazily points at Stiles. “That’s very distracting.”

It takes Stiles a second to realize he’s talking about the position he was just in, his shorts probably stretched taut between his spread legs.

Derek flushes to his ears. “Do it again.”

Stiles draws it out teasing him, enjoying how half their friends are trying to ignore the mating dance, and the other half try to sneak peaks, or all out stare. Erica, Malia, and Boyd might as well be sharing a bucket of popcorn.

Stiles stretches his body in a long line, feet together, and shifts his hips just right so the soft fabric of his shirt slips free of his waistband showing his well toned abs now as they maintain the position. 

He keeps his eyes locked on Derek as he slowly drops his legs to the side again. 

Derek’s eyes flash, predictably, before he forces his attention away and shakes his head clear. 

Stiles smiles pleased with himself before slowly bringing his legs down until he makes contact with the mat in front of him, and easily pulls himself into the fetal position to rest a few minutes. His skin covered in sweat, and breathing just above normal. 

The 3 of them finish long before Derek and the pack finish sparring. They’re currently working on evasion, where one of them tries to land a hit while the other’s goal is to not make contact, and not attack. Just evade. This became a necessary skill after the Kanima due to the paralyzing venom that could take them down in a couple seconds flat. 

Usually they would join in and get paired off to practice their hand to hand combat as well, when you run with wolves you need to learn to fight like them too. They all agree to skip it today because they’re running behind schedule due to the others getting a late start after dinner.

Stiles settles crossed legged on his mat, phone in hand, a new bottle of water between his thighs. He waits until Derek isn’t sparring himself, and walking around the others to give notes. Stiles prepares his phone and shoots a quick text to Derek and immediately pulls up his camera to hit record. 

**Stiles: Do you think anyone would notice if I sucked you off right now? Those shorts have been torturing me all night. I bet if you tried, you could smell appreciation and pain all the way from there.**

Stiles bites his lip, his text 100% honest - well Stiles wouldn’t actually blow Derek in front of the pack. Voyeurism is one of those fantasies that Stiles doesn’t think he would ever actually follow through with.

Derek checks his phone instantly, in case it’s the station calling him in. 

Stiles can see the second Derek catches his breath, his body going still, trying to maintain control. 

Derek’s head remains tipped toward his phone, but his eyes slide up to bore into Stiles across the yard with heat, desire, and  _ promise _ . 

Stiles not so subtly adjusts himself in his shorts, and Derek’s head shoots back as he looks heavenward for help and scrubs at his face. 

Derek mouths across the yard. “ _ Later.” _

Stiles can’t wait.

* * *

After the house is cleared, and locked up for the night, Stiles and Derek slip into the shower together to rid themselves of the dirt and sweat of their afternoon. They use every excuse to touch each other, no heat behind the contact, just affection. 

Once both clean, Derek gently presses Stiles against the steam slick wall. “Should I expect Erica to show me a new video tomorrow when I go into the station?” Derek noses at Stiles’ teasingly.

Stiles grins tilting his chin forward to steal a kiss, but Derek maintains the distance between their mouths, waiting for his answer. Stiles sighs, “Probably.”

Derek pinches his side, but leans in to kiss him. They slide their hands over each other’s freshly cleaned skin, hips lining up and sliding between them under the hot spray of the shower. 

Unlike the implications of Stiles’ text, they go slow and gentle, lazily chasing their release. High on the knowledge that they’re together in the safety of their bubble they’ve created, and appreciating yet another day they aren’t plotting against a new threat. It’s Beacon Hills, the Beacon being the Nematon, and they know somethings bound to come through at any point, but today? Today they’re threat free.

The fire under their skin finally rises above the heat of the shower, and their movements speed up with intent. Stiles digs his fingers into Derek’s ass, pressing them impossibly close, and lifts one leg to the side of the tub for leverage so he can get the angle just right.

With a punched out groan, Derek follows Stiles’ lead and grips his thigh to help hold it up and curls his other hand behind Stiles’ neck to use as leverage. He holds Stiles in place and increases his speed and pressure, demanding their release.

Stiles leans forward and bites hard into Derek’s shoulder with a choked off moan, and that’s all it takes for Derek to come with a shout. 

Derek whines through his aftershock, hips thrusting sporadically. “Stiles.”

That’s all it takes for Stiles to join him with a weak cry.  _ “Derek.” _


	2. Enter, Peter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing new to report, because Peter’s clueless. He probably just pissed someone off and it’s a personal vendetta, but since Derek insists on allowing him Beta status… this is our problem too, unfortunately.

Stiles wakes to a crash somewhere downstairs. He immediately seeks Derek who’s already up and looking out their window into the back yard. “It’s something outside, sounded like our patio chairs.”

Stiles pulls a shirt over his head, and his trusty bat that he still keeps under the bed despite Derek’s eyerolls.

They’re halfway down the stairs when they hear banging at the backdoor, but don’t see anyone standing on the other side of the half door window.

“Derek?” A gravelly, strained voice says barely above a whisper. “Anyone? Please?”

Derek hurries to the door and opens to Peter’s back falling from where he was leaned against the door, into the kitchen in a heap of blood, face ashen.

Stiles hurries forward, “Oh my, God!”

Derek holds his hand out behind him, silently asking him to stop, other hand reaching down to his uncle.

Stiles nods his obedience, even though he disagrees, but he knows Derek’s the one with extra senses and might have picked up on something he hasn’t.

Derek leans over Peter to scan the yard.

Peter coughs, “I wasn’t followed.” He tries to clear his throat more when Derek looks down at him doubting him. “I’m sure.”

Derek decides to trust him, and drags him into the kitchen, locking the door behind them. “Stiles, go upstairs and alert everyone. I’ll get him cleaned up.”

Stiles bites his lip, he should be helping. 

“Stiles, please.” Derek pleads. 

“Fine!” He growls and makes sure to stomp all the way up the stairs. Stupid pandemic.

He starts the phone tree by opening the group chat, hoping to reduce the number of calls he’ll have to make. It’s past 3 in the morning, so he’s sure most of them are sleeping and won’t see the text.

**Stiles: Head count!**

**Dad: at the station**

**Melissa: at the hospital**

**Danny: Jackson and I are home**

**Parish: I’m at the station, i’ll call Lydia, she’s probably sleeping.**

**Melissa: Scott’s home i called him**

**Lydia: i’m home, i’ll call Cora**

**Lydia: Cora and Isaac are safe**

He blinks at that, are Isaac and Cora together right now? He saves the thought for later.

That leaves Boyd, Erica, Kira, and Malia.

He calls Boyd first. While the phone rings another text comes through.

**Scott: Kira’s at home.**

“‘lo?” Boyd answers. 

“Hey, Boyd. Just checking in, you and Erica square?” Stiles tries to ask casually, so as not to alarm him in his freshly woken state.

Boyd clears his throat, “Yeah, we - we were sleeping. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no, maybe.” Stiles says. “Peter just showed up at our back door all gross and bloody. We don’t know what the story is yet. I’ll keep you guys updated in the chat.”

“Okay, thanks.” Boyd says, before they hang up.

**Stiles: Boyd and Erica are home**

Stiles calls Malia next, chewing the skin of his thumb nail when he realizes he probably should have called her first, being Peter’s daughter and all. Not because they have any kind of relationship, but because if someone was after Peter, Malia is probably on their radar as well.

She doesn’t answer.

**Stiles: has anyone heard from Malia?**

They all respond along the lines that the last time they saw her was at dinner last night.

Stiles’ phone rings showing her calling back. “Malia, where the hell are you? You know you gotta answer, especially if it’s the middle of the night.”

“I know!” She huffs, out of breath. “I had to shift back so I could answer.”

“You were shifted?”

“Yes, Stiles. I was out for a run, couldn’t sleep. What’s wrong? I’m close, I can come to you.”

“It’s Peter. He showed up hurt, we don’t know what happened yet. We were just getting a head count to make sure everyone is on alert.”

“Oh, uhm…” She hesitates.

“I know.” He reassures her. “Get back to your dad’s, and keep an eye on your phone. I’ll update everyone there, okay?”

“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t answer-”

“It’s okay, Malia. I’m glad you’re safe. Text us when you’re in your house, kay?”

“Thanks, Stiles.”

**Stiles: Malia was out for a run, but safe. She’s heading home now, and will let us know when she’s there.**

**Stiles: Stay alert, not sure what happened, but Peter showed up hurt. When I have more information, I’ll let you know.**

He heads back downstairs hoping Derek’s deemed it safe enough for him, and doesn’t send him back upstairs.

Peter’s propped up on the couch, freshly showered, and in clean boxers. He looks like someone put him through a shredder, cuts of varying intensity cover his entire torso, arms, and neck. Stiles worries briefly about blood getting on the couch when he realizes that most cuts have stopped bleeding already, blood pooling at the ends of tacky lines that no longer run freely. Peter is carefully scrubbing them away with a bloody wet towel.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” he asks, crossing his arms, and looking around for Derek.

Peter scowls at him.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. I’ll gladly kick your little werewolf ass right out of this house.” Stiles points to the front door.

Derek emerges from the hall then, also showered and in fresh boxers.

Peter looks between the two of them, and Stiles can’t imagine he actually thinks Derek would defend him.  _ Ha _ .

Derek turns his attention to Stiles. “Don’t go down the hall until I get everything cleaned.” When Stiles doesn’t immediately nod his obedience, Derek adds quietly, “ _ Please.” _

Stiles throws his head back. “Fine!” Again,  _ fuck this pandemic and over protective werewolf boyfriends. _

They turn to Peter, arms crossed. Derek finally says, “tell us what happened.”

“They broke in while I was sleeping, I didn’t even hear them come in…” Peter trails off, hissing as he scrubs at a thick line of blood across his collarbone. “It wasn’t until they were standing beside my bed that I caught a scent, then they were on me.”

Stiles smirks, “You sure you didn’t forget about a booty call?”

“Yes, I enjoy a little pain with pleasure, but I definitely have ‘being nearly gutted’ in the ‘Hard No’ column.” Peter somehow manages a flirty smirk despite the state his chest is in.

“Who was it?” Derek asks, pulling Peter’s eyes from Stiles, to which he’s grateful. 

“I don’t know.”

Stiles’ brows furrow in disbelief. “You don’t know? They were on top of you!”

Peter rolls his eyes. “It was dark, and I was a little preoccupied with getting away.”

Stiles sighs, pulling his phone back out. “Oh my, God. You’re useless.”

**Stiles: Nothing new to report, because Peter’s clueless. He probably just pissed someone off and it’s a personal vendetta, but since Derek insists on allowing him Beta status… this is our problem too, unfortunately.**

Stiles shoots a look at Derek, who doesn’t know what Stiles’ just said, but will later when he checks his phone upstairs. It’s a common argument that comes up every time Peter does.

**Scott: freaking Peter**

**Erica: freaking Derek**

**Cora: freaking Lydia**

**Lydia: excuse me?**

**Cora: everyone said you brought him back**

**Lydia: for the last time. I was a puppet.**

**Parish: Freaking Cora**

**Malia: lol**

**Boyd: So what do we do?**

Stiles rubs his thumb at the corner of his mouth suppressing a smile.

“What’s so funny?” Peter asks.

Stiles wiggles his phone. “Your lack of fans.”

“If you added me to the pack chat, maybe they’d get to know me better.” Peter says in his sweetest voice.

Stiles scoffs. “How many more enemies do you want?” He doesn’t even humor the idea of adding Peter to the chat. 

Derek heads down the hall to start cleaning since Peter’s not offering up any additional information. “Let us know if you remember anything else. I’m going to clean up.”

Stiles sits in a chair across from Peter, not comfortable letting him out of his sight.

**Stiles: Just keep an eye out. All we know is they got in the loft despite the new security system, and were so quiet Peter didn’t notice anything. It wasn’t until they were right next to his bed that he caught a scent.**

**Melissa: i don’t like that.**

**John: me either.**

**Jackson: do you really think someone could be that good, and not finish the job?**

**Scott: Yeah, but it’s Peter. The only thing bigger than his head, is his sense of self preservation.**

**Lydia: freaking Peter**

**Isaac: So should we like group up, or all come stay with you guys? I mean, if they come for us, it’s probably best if we’re not alone, right?**

Stiles doesn’t consult with Derek, this was more his area anyway. 

**Stiles: That’s not a bad idea, Isaac. This could still be nothing, so I don’t think you all need to stay here, but you’re always welcome.**

**Scott: Isaac, I already talked to my mom and I’m going to stay with her and John. You can stay with us in your old room?**

**Isaac: Sure, thanks.**

**Danny: Kira, want to come stay with us? You’re probably the only one who can handle Jackson for long periods of time.**

**Jackson: i’m not that bad**

**Lydia: I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say, Yes, you really are.**

**Lydia: Love you!**

**Kira: lol**

**Kira: i’ll pack a bag and head over in a few**

**Cora: I’ll come stay with you guys, not because i’m scared, but because I want to keep an eye on Peter myself.**

**Lydia: Malia, you can stay with us.**

**Malia: Thanks.**

Malia is still sort of an outsider to the group. It’s not that they don’t like her or think she’s anything like Peter. She just hasn’t bonded as much with all of them, having come into their lives so late into most of their friendships. 

She had also just spent 10 years as a coyote, so she spent a lot of time with Derek and Stiles as she figured everything out. She has the strongest bond with them because of it, and normally in these situations she stays with them. Peter being involved threw her for a loop.

**Stiles: Alright so we’re all squared away. I’ll be sure to let you know if anything happens.**

Stiles puts his phone away to find Peter’s eyes on him, and he doesn’t look away when he’s caught. Still creepy as ever, Stiles hates him. When he was still in High School, his skin would crawl when he caught the creep eyeing him inappropriately. 

Peter’s eyes look distant and considering. 

Stiles clears his throat. “Derek? You comin back soon?”

“Yeah, just gotta hose off the patio. Few more minutes.” Derek hollers from the other end of the house.

Peter smirks. “Do I make you nervous, Stiles?” It’s like his name drips from his lips.

“Not even remotely. Take a sniff.” Stiles wafts the air in front of his chest, toward Peter. “You disgust me.”

“That’s a little harsh.” Peter pouts.

Stiles leans forward, elbows on his knees, leveling Peter with a hard stare. “Keep your pedophile eyes to yourself. I  _ will _ kick you out, I'd even deliver you wrapped in a bow to whoever attacked you, and Derek wouldn’t be able to stop me.” Stiles raises his brows. “You understand?”

Peter tries a small laugh. “You’re not a child, Stiles. Pedo-”

“I was when I was in  _ High School _ .” Stiles narrows his eyes, making his point.

Peter catches his meaning, and with a sigh the glimmer leaves his eyes.

“Are we understood?” Stiles demands.

Peter hisses through clenched teeth. “Yes.” He forces a smile. “I will be on my best behavior.”

Derek enters the room then, freshly showered again and in another clean pair of boxers. Stiles wonders who’s room he’s raiding. “You better be.”

Peter looks a little shocked, like he forgot that Derek was definitely in ear shot, and would obviously be keeping an ear on them.

Derek looks at Stiles. “Everything’s clean.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He knows he’s overreacting, he’s just so annoyed.

Derek comes over and leans over him, pressing his mouth to the top of his head. “I know, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

Stiles lets out a long breath, his hand reaching to his side to bump his knuckles into Derek’s naked belly button in silent forgiveness. He drags his knuckles in a few small circles, thanking him for not holding his irritation against him, too.

Derek presses a kiss against Stiles’ head where his mouth has remained pressed. He smoothes the back of his hair, and Stiles’ eyes close when Derek’s hand settles on the back of his neck. Solid, warm, comfort. His alpha.

Stiles opens his eyes and Peter quickly looks away, his threat still fresh in his mind.

Peter clears his throat. “So, uh, can I stay here? Just for a few days, at least until I heal?”

Derek stands back up straight. “Follow me.”

Stiles takes up the back, keeping Peter in sight.

Derek opens Peter’s room and rests against the wall outside the door. “This is you.”

Peter steps into the room, and Stiles leans against the opposite door jamb, head turned to watch Peter.

Derek points at the dresser. “There are toiletries there, and you know where the bathroom is already. There are socks, boxers, shorts, and shirts in there too.” He points toward the closet. “Some more clothes in the closet.”

Peter steps to the closet, door open and his eyes widen when he pulls on a long sleeve v-neck and finds it’s his size. He looks at Derek, eyebrows pinched.

“This is your room. Everyone has one.”

“Don’t get comfortable.” Stiles says, reminding Peter that he’s still not a welcome pack member.

“Right. Thanks.” He says, but his voice is softer. They’ve actually caught him by surprise. 

Derek steps forward, and Stiles turns to fall in step with him as they leave Peter in his room. 

Stiles throws his hand out dramatically in front of them, and gives his best Yzma impression. “ _ Why do we even have that room?!” _

Derek bites back a laugh. “He’s my uncle.”

Stiles levels him with a stare at the bottom of the stairs. “Your  _ homicidal  _ uncle. Emphasis on the Homicide, because he’s actually followed through before. Many many times.” 

Derek drops his gaze and nods at the floor. “He’s gone as soon as he’s healed.”

Stiles sucks his lips between his teeth and lets out a breath through his nose. He pulls Derek’s forehead to his mouth and gives him a kiss, holding him there a moment. 

He understands why Derek has a hard time cutting off one of his few living family members. Derek’s still trying not to blame himself for all the bad Peter’s done. For a long time, he took responsibility for Peter’s actions, because Peter had gone mad after the fire. The fire that Derek swore was his fault and although he knows it’s not true, the old thoughts still whisper occasionally. 

“Let’s get back to bed.” Stiles whispers, sliding his hand down to rest on Derek’s neck for a moment.

They’ve both settled back into bed, and Stiles is curled up beside Derek who’s sitting against their headboard. The glow of Derek’s phone being the only light in the room. Stiles’ eyes are closed, as Stiles tries to relax, hating that Peter is unsupervised for the night. 

Derek breaks the silence. “He’s my  _ uncle. _ ” He whispers, almost pleading.

Ah, so he’s caught up on the group chat. “He’s not mine.” Stiles aggressively adjusts his pillow with a few punches. “You know where I stand on the matter.”

“I think he’s changed.” Derek says just as quietly as before.

“You change your diet, not your affinity for murder.”

Derek doesn’t respond. 

Stiles sighs again, and reaches a hand over to rest on Derek’s thigh. “Look, Derek. I love you. Like an unhealthy amount. I’d jump between you and another Kanima without a second thought. I can handle your uncle, but I don’t have to like it or be quiet about it.”

Derek drops his hand to rest over Stiles’ hand, squeezing it gently.

“You’re the Alpha. You get to decide who’s in your pack. Even if it’s a homicidal, manipulative, snake. Who has actually tried to kill you on several occasions” 

Derek stops breathing.

“It’s fine though. He won’t get another chance. I’ll make sure of it.” Stiles twists his hand to thread with Derek’s and pulls the back of Derek’s hand to his lips. “Now put your phone down, and come here.”

Derek does as he’s told and slides down with his back to Stiles, sighing when Stiles wraps his arm around his waist tightly, and slides his other arm under Derek’s pillow to hold his hand. 

Stiles inhales at Derek’s nape, and the man trembles, fingers spasming under the pillow where their hands are linked. Stiles rubs his nose and lips across the skin over and over, breathing deep, and exhaling his warm breath slowly. 

Derek makes a small choking sound, barely audible. He intertwines his fingers with Stiles’ other hand hanging over his waist, and pulls it tight to his chest like a safety blanket.

Stiles holds him tighter and rests his head not breaking contact with his neck, settling in for sleep. “I’ve got you, Derek.”

“I love you.” Derek breathes.

“I love you.”

* * *

Stiles hates this.

Peter has ruined everything, and it’s only 7:30.

He slipped into a chair at breakfast, broad smile, as if he had any right to join them. You know what they say about feeding stray dogs. Then he had the nerve to comment on their private activities from this morning. He couldn’t hear them of course, but he could smell them. To which Stiles reinforced his threat and added his sex life to the list of restrictions.

He critiqued the food. He took the last strip of bacon. He didn’t help clean up.

Only half an hour with the man, and Stiles feels a little homicidal himself. Which only adds to his bad mood because that brings up a lot of bad memories, and pain, from when he was possessed. He remembers all of it, and he remembers liking it. Of course not the fact that his friends were the target, but on a primal level Stiles liked the power he had. Liked the feeling of being untouchable. 

It wasn’t long after he was free of the Nogitsune, that Stiles found himself missing the feeling. The steel weight in his belly, now back to its normal state of trembling nerves, all too aware how defenseless he is.    


When he eventually started practicing with Deaton, trying to tap into his Spark, the steel weight returned slowly. Then, as if by sensory memory alone, so did the Nogitsune’s thoughts, only this time they were Stiles’ thoughts. 

He hasn’t tapped into his Spark since.

Peter’s asking what the plans are for the day when Derek’s getting ready to leave for the Fire Station. 

Stiles flips on him. “You’re focussing on healing.” Stiles looks down at his t-shirt, no visible blood seeping through. “How’s that going so far?”

Peter sighs, and lifts his shirt to show his wounds. They’re all still the same size as last night, but now they’ve all started scabbing. 

Stiles turns to walk Derek to his car outside. He only parks in the garage when bad weather comes through, preferring to be able to take off at a moments notice without having to deal with the garage. Unsurprisingly, Peter follows them, leaning on the porch railing.

Derek opens his door and tosses his stuff inside, before turning to Stiles and pulling him in by tugging at the hips of his shirt. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

Stiles reassures Derek by wrapping his hands around his forearms between them, giving them a tight squeeze. “I can handle Peter.”

Derek looks down between them, his fingers tightening in Stiles’ shirt at his hips. “I’m sorry.” He’s clearly still thinking about their conversation last night.

“Shut up.” Stiles says pulling Derek forward. “Look at me.”

Derek obeys immediately, brows pointed in the middle.

Stiles doesn’t say anything, communicating silently with his eyes. He knows Peter’s listening. Sure, Peter heard them last night when they left his room, but not their conversation in bed because all the bedrooms are sound proof. The tension in Derek’s eyes eases after a moment, and Stiles gives him a chaste kiss. “Now go be a hero. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Derek hesitantly turns to climb in the car. Once settled, and the engine started, he reaches for the door and lets his eyes linger on Stiles’ face. “Love you.”

“I love you.” Stiles grins. “Now get moving.”

Stiles stands there watching Derek go, not looking forward to the rest of the day. He takes his normal morning spot on the porch, and Peter takes a chair himself.

They don’t speak, and both turn to their phones. Stiles scrolls through his various feeds, and even tries TikTok but for once that doesn’t lift his mood much. He should schedule a session with Satomi, see if she can fit him in this evening after Derek gets home so he can watch Peter. 

He gets a reminder on his phone that he has a quiz due today so he heads inside. Peter follows, and turns to settle in the living room but Stiles stops him. “Follow me.” He doesn’t like turning his back on him, and is hyper aware of the air behind him. 

He leads them to the kitchen and pours himself a fresh cup of coffee in his thermos that has a screen printed picture of Derek frowning with a flower crown wrapped around his head taken on Lydia’s birthday last year. Then he grabs 2 bottles of water from the fridge. “Come on.”

Stiles heads down the hall and flips the light on in the Study. 

Peter looks around with approval. “My nephew went all out, I see.”

“Pick a book.” Stiles says.

“Why?”

“Pick. A. Book.” Stiles says slower.

Peter takes a few minutes, but pulls one from the shelf. “Damn, I don’t have my library card with me.”

“Lets go.” Stiles flips off the light and points toward the stairs across the hall.

Peter follows his instruction. 

Stiles knows it’s more out of curiosity, than obedience. Stiles leads them into his office and flips the light on, pointing to the chair in the corner on the same wall as his desk so he will remain in Stiles’ peripheral.

“You’re kidding…” Peter says.

Stiles hands him a water bottle. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, and I have school work to do.”

“That’s really unnecessary, Stiles.”

“You’re here to heal, not have a good time. As soon as you’re healed, you’re out the door.”

Peter settles into the chair, lifting his foot to rest on his knee, legs spread wide. He opens his book. He tips his head to the side. “You’re so cruel.”

Stiles settles into his chair, boots up his computer, and returns his eyes to Peter. “Let’s get one thing straight.” 

Peter lifts his eyes, amusement twinkling, intrigued.

“Derek might be giving you another ill advised chance, wanting to believe you’ve changed. But I’m not. I know who you are, and I know you’ll never change. I remember all the people you’ve killed.”

“I only killed the people who killed my family.”

“You killed Laura.”

Peter’s chest freezes on an inhale.

Stiles counts off on his fingers. “You bit Scott. You kidnapped me. You tried to force Scott to kill all of his friends, then tried to kill us yourself. You almost killed Lydia, then used her to bring you back from the dead by appearing as a younger version of yourself and taking advantage of her. And you’ve tried to kill Derek several times just to steal his power.” Stiles pauses, allowing his record to sink in. “I don’t trust you for a second.”

Peter swallows.

Stiles nods. “Now that we understand each other, stay there and be quiet.”

Stiles is surprised that Peter actually manages to stay quiet, the only sounds coming from him are the water bottle and the pages of the book. Stiles doesn’t get as much done as he’d hoped too, half his attention on Peter, but he’s ahead in most of his classes so it’s alright.

Kira knocks on the door jamb to announce her presence. “Hi guys, I brought lunch.”

Stiles turns and smiles, and his spirit lifts a little. “Awe, you didn’t have to do that.” He reaches out with grabby hands. “What’d ya bring me?”

“My dad made Sushi.” She smiles.

Stiles feels himself salivate. “Did he-”

“Remember your favorite? Yes.” Her smile reaches maximum wattage. Get it, cause she’s… you get it.

“This definitely deserves the proper setting. Let's get this downstairs to the kitchen.” Stiles stands grabbing his thermos. “Peter, up front.”

Peter grumbles. 

“If you don’t like it, you can heal back in your loft.” Stiles says without sympathy, pointing toward the door.

Peter grumbles more through gritted teeth, but steps out and leads the way toward the kitchen. 

Stiles sets the table, and Kira unloads the containers of food, displaying them in the middle of the table lined up in their rectangle tupperware. Stiles pulls 3 waters, and places them in front of the 3 of them.

When they begin reaching to fill their plates, Stiles plucks the first roll out of Peter’s outstretched chopsticks mid-air before he can place it on his plate. Stiles drops it on his own plate and then pushes the container of wasabi in his direction. “You only get Wasabi.”

Peter looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“You’ll heal.” Stiles quirks an eyebrow, daring him to challenge his authority. Stiles feels a faint hint of steel in his stomach, and allows himself to appreciate his power when it comes to Peter. He still makes a mental note to bring it up with Satomi this afternoon. 

Peter’s hand holding his chopsticks falter just a little and he looks longingly at the sushi.

Stiles grins an evil smile. “If I were serious, would you have done it?”

Peter glares at him. “No.”

“Your ‘no’ sounds a lot like ‘yes.” Stiles gestures to the Sushi. “You can have some, but find your manners.” When Peter freezes, unsure what Stiles is talking about, Stiles points his chopstick toward Kira.

Peter catches on. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been following orders all day, I see I’ve forgotten my manners. Thank you for sharing your lunch with me, it looks wonderful.”

Kira nods her head, with a thin smile. She wasn’t around for most of Peter’s terrorist attacks, but she’s heard all the stories.

After lunch they settle into the living room, Kira and Stiles transcribing more handwritten journals to their online shared database. It’s a slow process, but with everyone pitching in they’ve made great progress.

Peter stands up to leave, his book placed carefully face down on the coffee table.

Stiles doesn’t even look up. “Do I need to put a leash on you?”

“I need to use the bathroom.” Peter complains.

Stiles eyes him for a moment, then stands up and gestures for Peter to keep going, and follows behind him. 

Peter steps in and Stiles stops the door from closing. “And you call  _ me _ a pervert.”

Stiles forces the door all the way open. “With your history, I’m not taking any chances by leaving you unsupervised.” Stiles places his foot like a doorstop between the door and the tiles floor, his arms crossed across his chest. “You’re in  _ my  _ home, and I’m not giving you a chance to walk around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Peter sights heavily, like Stiles is still being unreasonable. 

“You wanna try me? You’re only here because I allow it. If I told Derek I wanted you out, you’d be gone.” Stiles gestures into the bathroom. “Go ahead. Test me.”

Peter keeps his head up, but goes about his business in the bathroom. 

Stiles knows that if Peter called his bluff or tried to challenge him while Derek was gone, Stiles would have a little bit of a challenge. He’s never taken on a wolf by himself outside of sparring nights, but he doesn’t let that intimidate him. If it came to a fight with Peter, Stiles wouldn’t hesitate. 

Fight or no fight, Stiles trusts that Derek would kick Peter out if he told him to. He’s told Derek his opinion on the matter, but he’s never explicitly told Derek to kick Peter out of the Pack, or out of the house while he heals.

That’s why they’ve had the same argument over and over for the past 4 years. Derek wishes Stiles would understand and be on his side of things. Stiles remains steadfast, unblinking. He hasn’t laid down an ultimatum, or told Derek what to do. Stiles has a feeling that Derek’s afraid he will, and he knows that Derek would choose him over his uncle.

Derek’s the muscle, and Stiles is the strategist. He tries his best to never force Derek’s hand, because he knows he has a history of being manipulated. However, when Derek’s asked Stiles for direction, it’s taken without question, or hesitation. 

Shutting Peter out would be a hard one, but Stiles knows that Derek’s just waiting for Stiles to tell him that he  _ has to go. _ He loves Derek enough not to do that to him. Instead, Peter is number 1 on Stiles’  _ shit list, _ and he’s making him his number one priority until he’s out of their house.

Has Stiles mentioned how much he hates Peter fucking Hale?

It’s about 3 PM when Cora comes through the door. “Still alive, I see.” She says, barely sparing a glance at her uncle, and grabbing another journal and laptop to start transcribing. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” Peter says, disgruntled as he flips another page in his book he picked out this morning.

Stiles raises his head. “How’s the healing coming.” He gestures for Peter to lift his shirt.

Peter just barely holds back a heated look, per Stiles’ threat, and holds his eyes as he leans forward to lift his shirt. “Not quite.”

Stiles huffs. “Hurry up already. I’m thinking about getting a tool shed and putting you in a cot outside.”

Peter settles back into the chair, opening his book again. “You know, when we met, you were a lot nicer.”

Stiles scoffs. “I was never  _ nice.  _ I was trying to keep your hands off me, and stay alive.”

Peter tilts his head in a sigh. “I never would have-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Stiles cuts him off. “Read. Heal. Stay quiet. Derek will be home in a couple hours.”

**Cora: Take a break.**

Stiles looks over at her, and she gives him a reassuring nod. 

He squeezes her knee before standing and walking toward the garage. He’s in dire need of some stress release, so he changes into his gym clothes. He goes through his normal 30 minute circuit, but it’s not enough. He ups it another 20 minutes, too much pent up energy still crawling under his skin. 

When that’s still not enough to calm his nerves, he calls Derek.

“Stiles?” Derek answers immediately. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” Stiles sighs, finally relaxing from the sound of Derek’s voice. “I just needed to hear your voice” He settles on the mat on the floor and lies back with one arm under the back of his head.

“I’m here.” Derek says, and lets a moment pass before he trails off giving Stiles what he needs. “It’s been quiet here today, only a few calls.”

Stiles lets his eyes fall closed, focussing on Derek’s casual voice as he starts to tell him about his day. 

“We had to help a fat Labrador that got stuck in a drain pipe. We were called to retrieve a litter of kittens under a mobile home, and mama was  _ not happy  _ to see me at all.” Derek laughs, before continuing, “Mrs. Capps needed help changing her smoke detector battery, but we all know it was just an excuse to call us.”

Stiles smiles, laying down on the mats on the floor of the garage, chest lighter.

“We’ve spent most of the day waxing the trucks, and working out.” Derek breathes with him a moment. “You know…” he pauses, “I’d…” 

Stiles lets him figure out exactly what he wants to say.

“If you asked me to… I’d revoke Peter’s Beta status….” Derek says in a whisper, completely honest, confirming Stiles’ thoughts from earlier.

“I know.” Stiles answers, much steadier.

They both sit in silence.

Stiles breaks it. “When are you coming home?”

Derek answers, even though he knows he has a regular schedule unless there’s an emergency. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

“Tell me something sweet.” Stiles says, not ready to hang up.

A few seconds pass before Derek answers. “Your third grade english essay.”

“What?” Stiles squeaks.

“The one you wrote about the last kind act you’d seen.”

“How would you even  _ know about that?!” _

“I have lunch with your dad once a week.”

“Oh my, God!”

Derek laughs, raising his voice an octave. “‘ _ he told them that if they stole one more pokemon card, he’d steal their dog.’ _ ”

“I was like 8!” Stiles defends himself.

“And apparently I stopped some bullies from stealing more of your pokemon cards.” Derek says smugly. 

“I hate you.” Stiles says. “I hate both of you.”

“You love me.” Derek says, echoing Stiles.

“Yeah, yeah.”

They sit in silence for a while, and Stiles can hear cards shuffling in the background on Derek’s end. 

Stiles says, “I set an appointment with Satomi this evening. I’ll start dinner, but I need you to take it over when you get home, so I can slip up to my office for my session.”

“No problem.” Derek answers automatically. “ Can I… can I help?”

Stiles sighs. “Not this time, at least not yet. Let me talk to her first. After I get things more…” Stiles pauses, unable to express in words the cloud over his head, the cold weight in his stomach. The echo of the Nogitsune under his skin. “I’ll talk to you when I’m ready.”

“Okay. You know I'm here.” 

“Always.” Stiles says.

A few moments of silence pass again.

“Damn it, I’m selfish, and I want you here  _ now!” _

“I know, feeling’s mutual” Derek lets out a breath into the phone. “When I get home, I'm all yours.”

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

Stiles finally lets him go after that, just a few more hours to get through.

* * *

Cora sits in the living room with Peter and Kira the rest of the afternoon. She wholeheartedly agrees with Stiles, Peter needs to be kept on a short leash.

Unlike Derek, she never felt guilty for the fire, and by extension guilty for Peter going crazy. She spent years mourning the death of her entire family, and running for her life. She was only 11 when she watched her house burn, and the hunters circling it. She ran as fast as she could, listening to the screams of her family behind her. 

She hid in the family vault that night, and grabbed a ‘Go Bag’. This was one of their contingency plans, ready to flee at a moment's notice. It was ironed into every pack member from an early age. She’d practically run to the vault on instinct without even thinking about it. Fighting tears, she turned on the police scanner, hoping to hear over the channel that she wasn’t the only survivor. 

It took time for her to sort through the static, all her nerves standing on edge, all of her senses overstimulated and stressed. Finally, she heard the words that bookended her life in Beacon Hills.

“No, sir. We’ve double checked all the victims. There are no survivors in the house.” 

She had turned the scanner off that night as soon as she heard that, and grabbed the bag and ran. 

It took several years, and a lot of council from her new Alpha she found in South America, for her to cope with her loss. She had a lot of survivor's guilt, but she eventually worked through it. 

When she heard the rumors about the new Hale Alpha, she couldn’t resist seeing for herself. Then spent 4 months captured and tortured by Deucalion’s pack, before she found her way to Derek.

When everything had calmed down, she stayed with Derek and Peter while they all caught up with each other.

It didn’t take long for her to flip the switch on Peter. The second she found out he’d killed Laura, she severed her familial tie with her uncle. She cut him off.

She remembers the look in Peter’s eyes when she slammed the wall down between them while he was still lamenting his misery when he came out of his coma, and how he needed the power of an Alpha to get vengeance on everyone involved in the fire. He couldn’t understand her sudden switch.

Until that point, Cora had spent days with Derek, Peter and their new pack feeling as though she were in a dream. It may only be 2 family members, but she felt lighter. She had her brother and uncle. She wasn’t alone anymore. 

When Peter asked her what changed, she looked him in the eye, unflinching. “You wanted vengeance for the slaughter of our family, but in order to do so you killed Laura, your niece of flesh and blood. Same as everyone in our house that night. You’re no better than the hunters that lit the match.”

She didn’t even need to hear any of the other stories that came after that, which there were plenty. Derek’s pack wasn’t shy in reminding him of Peter’s past transgressions, because he still tolerated him and let him remain part of the pack.

She asked Derek to take her back to her new pack after that, she didn’t want to be in the same pack as Peter. Derek had accepted that she wasn’t leaving because of him, and promised to keep in touch. It only took a month for her to realize she had to go back to Beacon Hills.

If Peter had been able to kill Laura who’d never done anything to him, for her power, then what would stop him from trying to kill Derek for his power? Especially, considering that Derek had successfully killed Peter once before.

She had to go back to Beacon Hills, she would never be able to live with herself if Derek died, even if not at the hands of Peter. When she ran from the fire, she was 11, there was nothing her small form could have done. Now, she could fight. She was strong. She could do it. 

She hasn’t left Beacon Hills since.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon is a lot easier on Stiles now that Cora is there and feels the same about Peter as Stiles. He loves her for many reasons, but the first thing they bonded over was their mutual hate. 

When she told him to take a break earlier, Stiles didn’t even question her. He knew she would be watching Peter just as much as Stiles, and unlike Stiles she had strength to back it up. 

Stiles was able to spend the next few hours after his workout finishing up on some of his school work, and start on dinner without having to keep an eye out. 

The front door opened, and Stiles looked at the clock on the microwave to check the time, 5:30. He kept up his steady motions, sauteing the vegetables at the stove, and didn’t even flinch when 2 familiar arms wrapped around his middle. 

Stiles sighed with Derek when he dropped his chin down to Stiles’ shoulder to inhale at his pulse. Damp hair ticking at Stiles’ ear from the shower he took before leaving the fire station.

“Missed you.” Stiles says, reaching his free hand up to curl around Derek’s neck, and holding his palm there, holding Derek in place to scent his fill.

“Anything I should know?” Derek asks, words muffled against Stiles’ skin. 

Stiles rocks them slightly to the low radio playing in the corner. “Nothing to report. Between me and Cora, I’m pretty sure he’s afraid to even breathe too loud.”

He hears Boyd and Erica’s voices travel down the hall, announcing their arrival. They would have come in just after Derek, but they probably didn’t shower at the station and had to stop out back to use the shower rooms.

Stiles pulls the pan off the burner and turns to Derek. “You don’t have to worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

They stand close to each other, Stiles’ hands resting at the small of Derek’s back, thumbs slipping under his shirt to trace over his skin.

Derek runs his hands up Stiles’ arms and down his chest and stomach, before pulling Stiles closer with one hand pressed between Stiles’ shoulder blades, and the other holding his jaw, thumb tracing over Stiles’ cheekbone. “I’m not worried about you not being able to take care of yourself, because I know you can. I feel bad because it’s my fault you're stressed and uncomfortable in your own home.”

Stiles pulls Derek closer at the waist with strong hands. “Taking care of myself doesn’t only mean physically, it’s mentally too. I’m taking care of myself, like I said, I've got an appointment with Satomi.”

“And you shouldn’t have to schedule a session because of me.” Derek’s eyes fall to somewhere over Stiles’ shoulder.

“Look at me.” Stiles asks gently, and he lifts his eyes slowly. “You know how I said I wasn’t ready to talk about why I needed the session today?”

Derek nods.

“I can promise you, it’s not because of Peter’s beta status, and not about him staying with us while he heals.” It’s about the memories and feelings from his possession, clouding his mind right now. He needs to talk through it, and remind himself that he’s not a monster. Which is harder to do than normal, because he’s dealing with Peter and actively demonstrating his power over him. Which is not Derek’s fault, this is about Stiles’ fear of becoming a monster like the Nogitsune, or Peter. 

Derek still looks unsure.

Stiles reaches up with one hand, still holding the small of Derek’s back tightly, and pulls Derek’s hand from his jaw to rest over his chest and holds it there. “We are okay.” Stiles says slowly. Nothing between the two of them has changed. 

Some tension drops from Derek’s shoulders, and Stiles reaches forward to pull Derek in for a kiss, saying everything he can’t say out loud with Peter down the hall. 

They’ll make it through this just like anything else. 

When Malia slips in the back door Derek finally pulls himself away from Stiles, and greets her before heading down the hall to join everyone else and wait for the others to show up for dinner.

Stiles checks the pasta, allowing Malia space to decide if she’s going to join the others yet or not. 

“I went for a run.” She offers, deciding to stay with Stiles for a bit.

Stiles nods at her, adjusting the heat on the pasta, then steps over to her. “I get it. You feel better?” He pulls a leaf from her hair.

“I guess.” She says, tension still showing in the set of her jaw. 

Stiles continues pulling leaves from her hair, and gently nudges her to turn around so he can get them out of the rest of her hair. He combs through her hair with his fingers, lightly scratching at her scalp the way she likes. This isn’t the first time she’s come over with nature’s accessories. He leaves her to her thoughts, not pushing.

When he’s done she turns back around and Stiles can see where the tension has disappeared from the corners of her eyes, and her jaw hangs easier. He adjusts her hair, and rests a palm to the back of her neck, offering her more comfort and reminding her that she belongs with them. They are her family, not Peter. 

She looks at him studiously, then shakes her head. “I swear, Stiles. Sometimes I swear you’re more animal than any of us.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Stiles smiles, genuinely pleased. 

She returns his touch and pulls him in for a hug. She finally faces the music with a deep breath and heads down the hall. 

Stiles checks the time. “Derek, can you come take over now? I need to get ready for Satomi.” He says it barely louder than normal, and Derek’s in the kitchen within seconds. Stiles catches him up with where he’s left off and what’s left to do.

Before Stiles walks away, Derek kisses his forehead. “Take as long as you need.”

Stiles’ bumps Derek’s nose with his own, before turning to head upstairs for his skype session with Satomi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at my [Main Blog](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Sterek Corner!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


	3. Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things settle back to normal after Peter's gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry this took so long to get out. I've returned to working in the office, and it's really bummed me out, which was kind of draining.
> 
> But anyway, here you go!

**CHAPTER 3**

When Stiles opens his bedroom door to join everyone for dinner, he’s hit with the sound of too many voices, chairs moving across the floor, glass clattering, and things knocking around in the kitchen. It takes him a few minutes to adjust, while he stands at the top of the stairs allowing his brain to catch up. 

Sometimes he forgets how soundproof the rooms are. Stiles had argued with Derek what the meaning of soundproof was, because apparently for werewolves it just means muffled. If something very loud happened, they would hear it in the distance. It’s really just a fancy way of offering a house full of wolves some sort of privacy.

Furthermore, soundproof doesn’t equal smell proof, so if someone’s bleeding or if there’s a fire, it still travels normally to the wolfie noses. Stiles, not having heightened senses other than his gut instinct (which counts, damnit) mostly feels like he’s living with cotton balls in his ears. 

There’s a noticeable difference between their house with soundproofing, and his dad’s house. He was always able to hear the front door open when he got home, when he got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, or the low level of the TV downstairs.

The only thing that feels normal is that the windows aren’t soundproof, so when he’s in his office studying, he can hear the rustle of the trees in the backyard and the bird songs in the early morning. 

He’d spent the last 45 minutes in the calm quiet of their bedroom, only the afternoon sun coming through the window, and his and Satomi’s voices the only things to be heard.

In theory, Stiles knew everyone was coming to dinner tonight, but he forgot what that was like. He tries to remember the last time they had a full house. He knows that it was definitely a while before the lockdown 6 months ago. 

Stiles finds everyone in the formal dining room, with the table extended to full length. Everyone is already seated, literally  _ everyone.  _ His dad, Melissa, Chris, and Braeden all in attendance. 

He stops behind Derek before making his way to the opposite end of the table where his chair sits empty. He squeezes Derek’s shoulder, and Derek lifts his hand to squeeze his hand in return and turns his head to kiss Stiles’ wrist. 

“You guys didn’t have to wait on me.” Stiles says, dropping a kiss to Derek’s head before making his way down the table smiling his greeting at everyone. He starts to worry that he didn’t make enough food, because he hadn’t been expecting 18 people at dinner. His worry is erased when he sees a couple extra sides added to the table. 

Stiles glances back at Derek, trying to determine if Derek had specifically invited every single member of their pack, or if it was just a coincidence. Stiles had expected the normal pack night size, not Holiday size company.

Once he’s seated, Derek starts passing the dishes to his left starting with Scott. The platters make their way around the table ending with Peter to Derek’s right. When Stiles hears a loud scrape against one of the platters, his head snaps up thinking they didn’t have enough food after all. Then he sees Peter’s lips in a firm line as he tries to get the last bit of pasta out of the dish. 

Then Stiles sees Chris’ plate piled high with at least 2 servings of everything. Stiles snorts realizing what’s happened, and Chris lifts his eyes and winks down the table at him. Stiles is further impressed by the fact that Peter doesn’t complain, maintaining the firm line of his lips.

Everyone begins eating and talking among themselves, Peter just a bystander picking at his sad plate of food. 

Stiles realizes there’s a lot more happening than just a pack dinner. Everyone is strategically seated, in an oddly specific way. Peter seated on Derek’s right, followed by Chris, Isaac, and Erica. Scott is to Derek’s left followed by Braeden, Cora, Boyd, and Jackson.

Most of the muscle is closer to Peter’s end of the table, a clear show of force. This display of the entirety of their pack, would remind Peter exactly who he’s up against should he try to pull anything over on them.

On Stiles right is his dad, Melissa, and Malia. Lydia, Parrish, Kira, and Danny to his left.

This isn’t Derek’s small pack of newbie Beta’s, with a few scattered allies. This was a diverse pack of Beta’s, humans, hunters, a Kitsune, Coyote, Hellhound, Kanima Hybrid thing, and a Banshee. 

Stiles looks at Lydia and points his fork around the table with a loose wrist so as not to draw attention. “You know anything about this?”

She smiles, popping a green bean into her mouth. 

Stiles smiles down at his plate. “I love you guys.”

* * *

Stiles settles in for the night a little easier tonight, because he knows Cora’s room is next to Peter’s and her door is open so she can hear if he tries to wander in the middle of the night. Cora went as far as suggesting they lock him in, and Malia tried to put it to a vote, but Derek pushed her hand down and looked at Peter until he promised not to leave his room tonight.

They’re going about their normal night routine, when Stiles asks around his toothbrush. “I thought you were going to like, give a speech at dinner, like lay some ground rules?”

Derek spits and rinses his toothbrush, smirking at Stiles in the mirror. “I’m pretty sure you and Cora have that under control.”

That gives Stiles a moment of pause, and he has to focus on actually brushing his teeth. Having Derek reaffirm that Stiles is in control of a situation, a situation as important as Peter in their home, makes him feel  _ strong _ . 

The healthy kind of strong. 

Not the threatening strength that he’s been confusing himself with all day, but the protective strength. His capability of protecting his friends and family.

By hearing Derek confirm his handle on the situation, makes him feel even stronger because he’s not alone in this. He has Derek at his side. Neither of them ever have to face anything alone again.

After rinsing his toothbrush and returning it to the holder, Stiles finds Derek at the dresser changing into his sleep bottoms. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s middle and turns him to face him. “I love you.”

Derek’s eyes soften at the edges, whatever lingering worry over Stiles last minute session before dinner finally slips from his features. Derek lets out a light breath, grinning. He tilts his head forward, resting his forehead against Stiles’ and nudging his nose back and forth. “We’re okay.”

“Yep.” Stiles grins, eyes locked on Derek to make sure he believes him, and traces a finger along the band of his boxers. 

“You’re okay?” Derek asks, his hands coming up to Stiles elbows, caressing his biceps slowly.

“I’m better.” Stiles says. “I just needed to clear my head, got a little fuzzy today. Kept doubting myself, and what I was doing.” He lets his eyes close, focussing on Derek’s breath on his face where they’re still pressed together, and the brush of his hands up and down his biceps. 

Derek lets a moment of silence pass, taking in what Stiles has said. “Was it about… how you’re handling things with Peter?” His voice is quiet, no accusation hidden behind the words. 

Stiles taps against Derek’s stomach with a finger, confirming.

“You’re not doing anything wrong.” Derek says, his voice sure.

“I know.” Stiles says, “I just needed to talk it over with Satomi, because there were a few moments today where I  _ liked it _ . I liked the feeling of having power over Peter, and picking on him because I  _ could _ .”

Derek gives his arms a squeeze. “That doesn’t make you bad.” He says, holding Stiles closer. He’s more than aware of this particular battle Stiles faces within himself. “You shouldn’t confuse pride for malicious intent. That feeling you had was because you were proud of yourself. You were effectively protecting your family, it’s a natural feeling.”

Stiles nods. “That’s basically what Satomi said.”

“And it’s  _ Peter.”  _ Derek says with a low huff.

Stiles opens his eyes. “You’re not upset?”

He shakes his head and pulls Stiles against him. “No, of course not. You all have every right not to trust him. I know it’s asking a lot of you all to put up with him, and I'm grateful. As much as I hope he’s changed, I'd be a fool to believe it.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Stiles says, and hears how it sounds. “Sorry.” He rubs apology circles in Derek’s hips.

“No, you’re right.” Derek bumps his nose under Stiles’ making him look up. “I’m lucky I have you looking out for me.”

“Always.” 

Derek kisses him then, and it’s gentle and sweet. 

* * *

It’s been almost a week since Peter was attacked, and it only took 3 nights for him to heal completely. Derek held true to his promise and sent him right on back to the loft. 

The house immediately went back to normal, but they‘re still keeping their ears to the ground in case whoever attacked Peter comes back to try again, and possibly widen their scope to the whole pack.

Derek desperately wants to believe there’s nothing to fear, but his track record would challenge otherwise. They have nothing to go on though, so all Derek can do is stay vigilant, and it’s  _ exhausting. _

**Stiles: I go in hard but come out soft, and I never mind if you want to blow me.**

**Stiles: What am I?**

**Stiles: ;)**

Things are definitely getting back to normal, Derek smiles to himself when he responds.

**Derek: Horny.**

The response is instant.

**Stiles: No, Bubblegum. But since you brought it up…**

Derek checks his surroundings to make sure he’s alone. It’s been quiet at the fire station today, and he’s resting in the upstairs sitting area. 

**Stiles: what’r you wearing.**

**Derek: my uniform**

**Stiles: the yellow one that means business, or the grey shirt that fits you in all the right ways.**

**Derek: t shirt.**

**Stiles: guess what i’m wearing**

**Derek: Nothing**

**Stiles: You’re the boss!**

Derek laughs, the abrupt noise even startling himself. 

“What’s funny?” Malia asks, ascending the stairs and coming to rest awhile until something comes up.

Derek wiggles his phone at her. “Stiles.”

**Stiles: guess what i’m doing now.**

**Derek: trying to get me in trouble.**

**Stiles: you’ve had plenty of time to find somewhere to be alone, if there are still witnesses, that’s on you.**

**Stiles: Now, do you want to know what i’m doing, or not?**

Derek laughs again, Stiles frustration glaringly obvious. He glances at Malia, who’s cursing at her phone having lost some game. He decides to just go with it, they deserve to relax. Stiles deserves it.

**Derek: How about I tell you what I want to do to you?**

**Stiles: oh my fucking god, yes**

Things quickly escalate from there, even though Derek’s trying to drag out Stiles’ pleasure. He’s just barely hiding his erection under a sofa pillow, with his hands resting on top with his phone. He manages to appear relatively at ease, even if he wants to bolt home and finish the job in person.

**Stiles: fuck Derek i’m gunna cum**

**Derek: not yet**

**Derek: i’m not done with you yet**

**Stiles: fuck okay**

**Derek: Relax, take a minute to collect yourself.**

**Derek: we haven’t even gotten to the good part**

**Stiles: goddamnit**

**Derek: We can stop if you want?**

**Stiles: i would actually kill you**

**Derek: when i get home, i’m going to take you apart piece by piece until you're begging me to cum**

**Stiles: i really fucking love this side of you**

**Derek: maybe i’ll blind fold you**

**Derek: tie your hands behind your back**

**Stiles: yes please**

**Derek: Are you ready for more?**

**Stiles: yes**

**Derek: I want you to start making room for me, i want you ready and open when i get home**

He gets lost in his messages, barely holding himself together. He can almost hear Stiles across town, he knows how his body reacts so well, he knows exactly what sounds he’s making. Derek makes him tease himself open, one finger at a time. Makes him intentionally avoid his prostate. 

**Stiles: derek i need**

He holds out a little longer, knowing Stiles is still obediently stretched around 3 pumping fingers, and avoiding the spot he was told to.

**Stiles: der**

**Derek: now**

He doesn’t get a response for a minute, knowing Stiles is selfishly chasing his release again.

**Stiles: im gunna**

**Derek: not yet**

**Stiles: fuck okay**

**Derek: don’t stop**

**Derek: you’re doing great. so good. fuck, so good**

**Stiles: i’m fucking trying**

**Derek: you’re so fucking good, Stiles.**

**Stiles: derek please**

**Derek: whenever your ready, let go**

At the sound of a choked gasp, Derek looks up to find Boyd and Erica standing beside him like they were about to sit down

Erica covers her nose, and looks at Malia across the room in disbelief. “How are you just sitting there? While he’s all-” she gestures at him wildly.

Malia shrugs, her attention returning to her phone easily. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a smell.”

“Derek’s  _ sex smell!” _ Erica says, eyes comically wide.

“No,” Malia frowns. “That’s his horny smell… sex would be a lot more-”

Derek smirks, because she’s right. They’ve all been surrounded by hormonal teenagers, this really isn’t anything new.

“Okay!” Boyd says, grabbing Erica by the shoulders to lead her back down the stairs. “It’s not like we heard anything.”

Derek’s phone rings then, and he answers.

“Fuck, Derek!” Stiles cries into the phone, followed by several unintelligible sounds, as he chases his release with wild abandon. “you fucking, ah.” 

Derek looks up to meet Malia’s eyes, feeling like he should apologize now, but she’s laughing and giving Derek a thumbs up.

Then Stiles shouts through clenched teeth. Derek listens to him come down, soft whimpers and sighs whisper over the line. It takes a few minutes before Stiles can speak. 

“Fuck, that was the best orgasm of my life.” His voice is ragged from overuse.

“Happy to be of service.” Derek says, feeling his blush finally conquer his face, neck, and ears.

A shoe flies over the railing from downstairs and lobs right into Derek’s chest.

“You two are the worst!” Erica shouts from below.

Derek and Malia laugh. 

“What’s funny?” Stiles asks, his wits coming back to him.

“Erica says ‘Hi’.”

“What? I told you to find a place to be alone!”

“Yeah but that was because I wouldn’t be able to join you if there were witnesses. We were texting, it was perfectly innocent over here. You’re the one that took it from texting to phone sex without warning.” Derek argues.

Stiles grumbles on his end, embarrassment clouding his afterglow. 

“It’s not a big deal.” Derek tries to comfort him, because it’s really not.

Stiles sighs, “at least it was just Erica.”

“Uhmm…” Derek says.

Malia leans forward, raising her voice to be heard over the phone. “Hi, Stiles!”

“And Boyd.” Derek says. “That’s all.”

“Oh my god.  _ That’s all. _ ” Stiles mocks. 

Derek and Malia laugh, and eventually Stiles relaxes and laughs with them. 

“Freaking werewolf hearing.” Stiles mumbles. “Wait, did you really not get off?”

“Yep.” 

“So that was all for me…” Stiles says, like he doesn’t believe it for some reason.

“Just for you, Stiles.” Derek smiles. “You can return the favor later.”

“Oh my god. Forgive me Father, for I’m about to sin.”

* * *

It’s a slow day at the station, and they’ve already washed down the trucks, cleaned up common areas, and worked out a couple times. Derek finds his way back to the lounge area checking the time. He’s got a few hours left in his shift, so he kills time on Tik Tok. 

He only has the app because everyone kept sending him links to Stiles’ videos, and eventually he caved. He’s only following Stiles, but Stiles doesn’t know he is. Stiles still doesn’t know he’s posting his own videos, and Derek wonders how long until one of his videos ends up on Stiles’ For You page. There will be no denying it then. Derek’s hoping he can get his video count up before that happens though, because he knows Stiles would be even more impressed by his well kept secret.

Derek pulls a new video from his camera roll, and begins the process of uploading it. His videos aren’t nearly as fancy. He just uses the pause button when recording, gets his shots, and uploads it as is. Whereas Stiles edits the videos top to bottom.

This video is from a few nights ago. Stiles was working late on an assignment, tapping his teeth on his blue pen in a constant pattern. He bit down so he could return his hands to his keyboard to type, the pen jiggling slightly while Stiles chewed on the back end.

Derek paused the video, and went upstairs to Stiles’ office and got a close up picture of Stiles pen cup, crowded with mangled pens that he’d already chewed to oblivion. 

He paused the video again and went to his office and recorded him opening his desk drawer and reaching into the back to pull out a box of pens he’s stashed away.

He captions the video, ‘ _ He’s perfect, but I have to hide my pens.” _

Derek knows it’s lame in comparison to Stiles’ content, but oh well. 

Once his video is uploaded, he checks Stiles’ account for any new vids he’s missed. His new upload today is from the night before where Stiles crawled on top of him on the couch, and proceeded to sit on Derek in every unnatural way. Eventually coming around to sit on his shoulders. 

Derek knew what he was doing, but sat still and maintained Stiles’ balance when he would almost fall off. He continued browsing through his phone as if unbothered. 

It was cute, Stiles would giggle when he thought he managed a particularly impressive position worthy of comedy central. 

Derek fought not to smile himself, Stiles scent radiating joy and comfort, with an undertone of mischief. 

What did it was when Stiles climbed into his lap head first and settled his head between Derek’s knees, his shoulders and hands bracing him as he lifted his legs in the air to rest on either side of Derek’s head. Stiles looked up at Derek, his phone lighting up the space between them. 

“Whatya doin?” Stiles asks, slightly breathless as the blood runs to his head.

“Reading.” Derek answers nonchalantly.

Stiles starts wiggling his foot behind his head, bumping his heel into him on purpose. 

That’s when Derek leaned forward and bit Stiles’ thigh. 

The video ends with a yelp, crash, and laughing.

* * *

One by one pack members show up in the backyard, already stripped down to running shorts, or swim trunks. It’s an unspoken event that happens once a month on Full Moons, where anyone in the pack is welcome to join Derek in the preserve. 

After he was sure they all found their anchor, and had full control over their shift under the full moon’s pull, he made sure they knew they weren’t obligated to spend those nights with him. 

Stiles is happy to say that all those that feel the pull of the moon show up almost every time. However, Parish insists on working the night shift under full moons, his protective instinct adamant that he serve and protect.

Stiles and Derek are sitting on the back porch, taking in the evening sun while they wait for the moon to rise. As each of their friends show up, they all make a point of telling Derek that they ran the perimeter. Derek’s lips curl in a shy smile and he thanks them for looking out for their pack, and each preen under the praise of their alpha. 

Stiles and Derek have a stack of food on the patio table, high carb and protein things for any of them who didn’t think ahead. At this point, Stiles is pretty sure they all come hungry, because they know they’ll be fed. 

While they wait for the sun to set, they talk, eat, and wrestle in the yard. Currently, Stiles has Erica sitting near the table eating, but holding his phone ready to record. 

He’s sitting close enough to Derek that he’s able to lean over the gap between them and get his attention. Derek, always in tune with Stiles’ proximity, instantly responds to his movement, and leans his direction picking up on his intention.

Stiles gets just close enough, hovering close to Derek’s lips but not making contact. This is the ‘ _ Almost kiss your boyfriend and see their reaction challenge’ _ . 

Derek waits, a tiny grin starting to spread, appreciating the tease, the hesitation, expecting it to be a precursor to a great kiss. However, as Stiles lets the moment draw longer, he can feel Derek’s brows furrow against his, his eyes opening and looking down at Stiles’ lips impatiently.

Stiles smiles at him.

Derek tries to close the gap himself, but Stiles keeps the distance. He growls quietly, and Stiles hopes his phone doesn’t pick up on more than a complaining groan. Derek’s eyes have lifted know, holding Stiles in a stare.

They sit there in a weird sort of head jousting battle, their foreheads pressed together with Derek trying to angle his chin in to kiss, and Stiles pushing back with his forehead like a ram to maintain the distance, small giggles slipping out.

Derek reaches out, picking up on Stiles’ game, and grabs an arm to try and force Stiles to kiss him already. Now, it’s a matter of winning, and Derek hates losing.

Stiles stands up, pulling free of Derek’s hand and wrapping his wrist in a grip so Derek can’t grab another part of him. Derek grumbles and growls below him, his wolf equally frustrated. Stiles positions himself between Erica and Derek incase of a sudden flash of red eyes.

In Stiles’ momentary distraction, Derek jerks the arm that Stiles’ is holding the wrist of, to make him lose his balance momentarily, and then his other arm shoots out to wrap around Stiles’ waist dragging him into his lap. 

A startled shriek sprouts from Stiles followed by laughter when Derek has him completely under his control, settled comfortably in his lap. Derek locks eyes with him with a winning smile before he cups the back of Stiles’ head and pulls him in for a possessive kiss. 

Stiles doesn’t fight him, melting into him. 

Derek pulls back, their foreheads pressed together again like before. “You think you’re so funny.”

Stiles bumps their nose. “I’m fucking hilarious. And now a proud owner of a new video that I’m sure my followers are going to go bonkers over. Thank you for being the perfect alpha with impeccable control and not flashing claw, fang, or eye.” Stiles winks.

Derek looks around for the camera, and Erica wiggles it at him. At Derek’s sigh of resignation, Stiles runs his hands along Derek’s bare chest and each inch of skin he can get to, reassuring him that it wasn’t just for a video.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” Stiles asks, wondering for the hundredth time if he’s taking these things too far, and should stop.

Derek blinks at him, almost like he’s unsure why he’d said that. “Of course.” Derek cups his face. “I’ve never doubted it. I love you just as much, you know that too, right?”

Stiles nods, “I just worry I take things too far sometimes.”

“Stiles?”

He looks up at him, meeting his eyes and he’s smiling.

“Shut up.”

Stiles laughs as he kisses him with a firm but gentle kiss. 

When Stiles gets a look at the raw footage he makes a note to enlist Erica’s help a lot more because she managed some really great angles and close ups. He already knows that when he gets it edited and uploaded, it’s going to be one of their most popular uploads yet. 

When the sun has finally gone down, and the wolves are itching to run Stiles grabs his back pack with water bottles and power bars from the corner of the porch throwing it over his bare back and tucking a towel into the straps to hang at his waist. 

At this point he knows it’s going to be a long night. He usually doesn’t spend the whole time running around with everyone, and tends to spend several hours alternating between the lake, and lying out on the dock on his towel enjoying the glow of the moon and the sound of his friends messing around.

Tonight Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Scott, Isaac, Malia, and Cora are all here and they all howl and take off at Derek’s starting howl. Stiles howls with them with a face splitting grin as they take off.

He’s usually the only human that gets into the whole running with wolves thing. Sometimes Danny and Lydia will come along, but they just swim the whole time, and will borrow a dirt bike to ride out. Stiles though, he loves pushing his body to keep up with his wolves. 

He loves the energy and connection he feels when they run together, a buzz vibrating under his skin when they make eye contact, and smile mid stride. He suspects they slow their speed for him, because when he challenges himself faster, they always keep up. 

Apparently, a game of tag has taken off because he’s knocked to his side by Malia where she quickly pushes back up and smiles around sharp fangs, and glowing blue eyes. “You’re it!”

Stiles fights to his feet, already hearing all the betas retreating into the distance in different directions. Normally, they wait until after he’s swimming for them to start their game of tag, but Stiles always complains. They don’t think he could possibly have a chance of tagging any of them, and he would always be their easiest target.

The last couple times they included him, he realized they weren’t actually trying to tag him, so he started putting himself right in the open, daring them. Afterwards he’d been a complete shit for the rest of the night, and soured everyone’s full moon. He didn’t feel bad about it either. They wanted to treat him like a weak link, and that ruined his night. So they could all suck it up.

But tonight for the first time? They tagged him. 

He’s so fucking happy he throws up a double fist cheer. “Yes, fucking finally.” He takes a minute to ground himself, and rubs his hands together, looking around and trying to pick up on the different directions they all ran, and assess which might have the slowest pace. 

Stiles catches a flash of Red a few yards to his left, and Stiles holds out a hand. “Don’t you dare try to help me.”

Derek closes his eyes once and nods before taking off. 

Stiles picks the opposite direction, knowing he’d never catch Derek, he’s not delusional, okay?

He’s on someone’s trail, not quite sure who, but he’s unrelenting in his chase. They come to a clearing and Stiles sees it’s Boyd. 

“You better not be taking it easy on me!” Stiles shouts, his breath harsh. “I know you can run faster than that!”

Boyd turns around, running backwards, with a bright smile. His eyes glow yellow, and his fangs drop around a smile. “You’re the boss!” He turns and picks up speed.

Stiles continues chasing, but then catches a glimpse of blonde streak to his left. He does a quick calculation in his head, scheming. He changes direction, chasing Erica, coraling her where he wants her. Boyd’s still his target.

It’s a few minutes, but Erica’s path is just about to cut through Boyd’s path. Stiles spots him behind a tree out of the corner of his eye, and follows Erica’s path until the very last second, sprinting the 10 feet between his point and where Boyd is hiding behind the tree. 

Just a couple feet from the tree, Boyd catches on and bolts. Stiles takes a flying leap, and barely swipes Boyd’s ankle. With the air knocked out of his lungs, Stiles rolls over with a groan. “That totally counts!”

Boyd stops, a stunned look actually showing on his normally stoic face. That’s all Stiles needs to believe he didn’t let him tag him.

Stiles throws a triumphant fist in the air. “Fucking A! I told you guys! Do you hear me?” Now that he’s stopped running, his chest is burning, and he swears he’s got an inch of sweat covering his skin. Everything’s on fire, his legs feeling limp where he lies against the dirt.

Boyd steps toward him.

Stiles throws out a palm. “Please, no. Don’t tag me back. I need a minute to recover. Or an hour. Maybe a week.”

He laughs down over him. “Do you want help up?” 

Stiles waves him off. “Nah, I’ll be fine in a few and make my way to the lake.”

Boyd nods, and before he turns to walk away. “Just so you know, none of us think you’re our weakest link.”

Stiles hides a smile. “Thanks, Boyd.”

He lies there until his breathing settles, and lets the pride settle over him. The whole body feeling of self satisfaction, and accomplishment. 

After a while he pushes himself to his feet, and makes his way toward the lake where he dropped his bag off earlier, suddenly in dire need of one of his water bottles. He can smell the change in the air signaling the lake is not far ahead, when strong arms pick him up from behind, and Derek nuzzles into his throat. 

“Hey, big guy.” Stiles says, one hand gripping the arms at his stomach, and his other reaching back to thread through Derek’s hair, and scratch at Derek’s exaggerated side burns.

“I’m so lucky.”

“Damn straight.” Stiles laughs.

He growls into his shoulder, dragging his teeth along his carotid. He’s still carrying Stiles forward toward the lake, his legs swinging in front of them awkwardly. He tries not to get in the way of Derek’s steps.

“Piggy back ride?” Stiles asks.

Derek drops him, and Stiles hurries behind him to hop up, and wrap his legs around him. After he’s secure, they take off at top speed.

Their speed doesn’t quell as Derek sprints across the dock and canon balls right into the lake with Stiles still wrapped around his back.

They separate under the pater and both surface shaking out their hair, skin refreshed by the cool water after their warm nights fun. Derek doesn’t waste time, pulling Stiles against him and claiming his mouth. Stiles immediately curls around him, relishing in the attention. Their privacy is sure to be short lived. Their splash has already rippled through the trees, summoning their friends.

One by one, they hear splashes and laughter echoing around them. Derek maintains his grip, features human as he covers Stiles’ face, neck, and shoulders in kisses. 

Isaac and Cora waddle next to them, Cora already on his shoulders. “Come at me, Stilinski!”

“Oh, it’s so on.” Stiles smiles, already clumsily trying to climb Derek’s back to find his spot on Derek’s shoulders. 

“Just…” Derek says, manhandling Stiles, Slipping under the water and positioning him over his shoulders. When he stands back up, Stiles is settled neatly over his shoulders with Derek’s arms slug over his ankles holding him in place. Derek shakes his hair out, and wipes the water from his face. 

Stiles leans forward to kiss the top of his head, and rub behind his ears. “Let’s show them who’s alpha.” He feels the rumble in Derek’s chest under his calves. He knows it’s going to be a team effort, but he has the added benefit of an alpha maintaining the most of their balance. Stiles’ job is to knock the 2 betas off balance in front of them.

The rest of the pack gather around cheering, placing bets, and calling fighting over who gets to take on the winner. 

“You think just because you tagged Boyd, you can take me down?” Cora asks, huffing, using all her strength to try and knock Stiles back. 

Stiles can feel Derek shift below him, maintaining balance as he stumbles around, Isaac mirroring him. If Cora falls too far forward, then Isaac will lose his balance and they’ll fall forward.

A few more minutes pass, with the 4 of them fighting valiantly. Then Stiles throws himself back, Knowing Derek’s reflexes are much faster than both Isaac and Cora’s, and he has the core strength to hold himself up at the extreme angle. 

They are connected at the hands, gripping each other tightly in their battle, so when Stiles yanked her back with him, her center of gravity shifted forward. She fights to right herself, and Isaac fights to stabilize them

Derek quickly steps back helping Stiles to maintain his center of gravity, and his core strength able to return himself to a sitting position on Derek’s shoulders.

Cora is still bent almost in half, Isaac unable to maintain balance, and the two of them fall forward into the water. Derek and Stiles standing tall victors.

Derek and Stiles opt out of the next round as Scott and Malia take on Erica and Boyd. The height difference is hilarious to watch.

After a few rounds, the betas start slipping out of the water to run around some more. Jackson challenging Cora to stupid pissing contests. Erica flirting obnoxiously with Boyd, teasing him into chase. Stiles eventually urges Derek to go play with his betas, and then he stretches out onto his towel on the dock.

An hour or so passes, with Stiles watching his friends all play in various stages of their shifts, absolutely glowing under the height of the moon. 

Eventually, he decides his skin is a little too sticky and jumps in the water to rinse his skin. He’s swimming around on his back, floating and appreciating the bright full moon when a wad of hot, slick mud lops into the side of his jaw and neck.

He shoots upright to see Scott and Isaac covered in mud and laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles shouts, but already dissolving into laughter as he wipes the mud from his face.

* * *

After their long night, sun almost glowing over the horizon, they make it back to their bedroom. Stiles immediately turns to shove Derek against their bedroom door to make sure it’s closed tight. He attacks Derek’s mouth, all heat and tonge. “I’m not quite sure what our agreement was earlier today, whether I’m supposed to take you apart, or you me… there were some mixed messages. But I could really get behind some rough lovin tonight.” Stiles rasps.

Derek rumbles low in his chest, already lifting Stiles up by the hips and wrapping his legs around him. 

“Fuck, yes.” Stiles moans, covering Derek’s neck in kisses, and tasting every inch of skin. “When you talked about blindfolds, and tying me up? Where the fuck did that come from?” Stiles mumbles, hips grinding against Derek as he carries him to the bathroom. “Because that’s something I could get into. And telling me what to do? Fuck, Derek.”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just focussed on getting them to the bathroom, flicking on the light, and adjusting the shower to the right temperature. While they wait for the water to heat, Derek presses Stiles against the wall next to the shower opening. He doesn’t answer Stiles, because he honestly doesn’t know where it came from. 

“I didn’t know you were into that!” Stiles groans, his length fire against Derek.

Derek laughs roughly, “neither did I.”

“Well we are definitely adding it to the ‘Yes, please’ list. Green, green for me. Yep. Would 10/10 be into doing more.” Stiles cries when Derek grinds them together in response. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Stiles sighs. “Not if you kill me first.”

Derek growls, dropping Stiles and shedding them of their shorts quickly. “Get in.”

“Yes, sir!” Stiles answers quickly climbing into the shower not even testing the water first. 

Derek considers taking things further, but he knows neither of them know enough about how it works, and they really should have some serious discussions first. They might think they know enough, but Derek isn’t willing to hurt either of them when sex is only meant to make them feel better than good.

Derek lifts him against the shower wall. “Not tonight, tonight I just want to pound you through the rest of the moon.” He licks a stripe up Stiles stil sweat salty skin.

“Yes, yep. Uh huh.” Stiles answers. “Totally on board for that too.”

Derek lets go to his control at the full permission given, and allows his eyes to bleed red and his teeth to elongate. 

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles breathes, wrapping his face in his hands. He pulls his face to his and traces Derek’s lips and fangs with the tip of his tongue, before biting into his lower lip. “I’ve missed this.”

Derek hadn’t realized how long it’d been since he took Stiles like this. He corrects his oversight now. He manages to withhold his claws enough to open Stiles enough for him, and then pounds into him until Stiles is screaming his release, echoing off their bathroom walls. Derek could listen to it forever. 

He doesn’t remember the rest of the shower, the both of them lazily cleaning themselves, and making out anytime they were close enough to reach. The second their naked, slightly damp skin hit their mattress under the rising sun, they’re out almost immediately.

Derek wakes up only a couple hours later to be called in to the station. There’s a fire on the outskirts of town, and they need all hands on deck. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at my [Main Blog](http://tamzstripped.tumblr.com/) or [Sterek Corner!](http://littleredsterek.tumblr.com/)


End file.
